My Week In Louisiana

Every third week of June, I attend a conference in Louisiana. I have gone for 13 years now, which is more than half of my life, and don't plan on stopping. Once I entered college, I became a workshop presenter/judge/chaperone. Since I graduated college, I have watched one parish in particular due to my friendship with the agent of that parish (we grew up in the system together). Although every year has its hilarious antics, I will only recant this year's events because it ended two days ago and its still fresh in my mind.

Being 600+ miles from Louisiana doesn't make it easy, but this year it was a tad bit more difficult. In the past I would drive home for 10 hours, switch cars with my mother, drive to the office an hour away, pack kids into my mom's car, let them teach me things on the 4 hour drive down to Baton Rouge, then go work at the conference and occasionally drive the kids around, then reverse the process at the end of the week. Not a big deal. They pay me for my gas and troubles, and I'm happy and feel accomplished. What makes this easy is the fact that I do not have to worry about anything because the agents are there and they just tell me what to do and I watch the boys at night. But this year they couldn't go...(Seriously, who gets pregnant? Don't we have an app for that?)

To start the trip, I make it home. Almost great except I was pretty sick and out of it on the drive home. It happens. Get home Sunday night, and I deliberately park further down the drive way so that when Annette pulls out in the morning, she can do a K-turn out of the driveway as she usually does. Great, awesome, I'm being a good guest. The next morning, she's running late (for reasons I forget) and goes out the house. I'm in the den getting ready to play the piano when I hear noise outside the front door. I open the front door to see my mother nonchalantly walking back into the house. She plainly states "I just hit your car" I laugh cause its funny. She states that I incurred no damage (like it would matter anyway), but that her bumper was fugged. She would be correct. We get a police report done and she goes to work.

I try all that day to work on my thesis, I got some progress done on it, but could've done better. I ended up sleeping the rest of the day because I was still feeling ill, but still made time to cook some pasta (lets be real, I'm a fat kid forever).

The next morning, I leave super early to go pick up the kids for the ride down. Get there, I recognize about half of the kids, which is good, introduce myself to the other half, get the game plan for getting them all down (there were more kids than seats allotted), and we head down south. The only rule I got was to "not get a ticket". Sure; no promises though.

We start our drive, and the kids in my car want to stop to eat breakfast. So we stop in Natchitoches (for you non-Louisiana readers, that's pronounced Nack-ih-tish /endlesson) and go to the McDonald's right off the exit. There, I see another parish agent and kids; the agent who was supposed to help watch our kids due to our situation. She looks frazzled, and I try not to bother her. While the kids were eating, the chaperones from the other parish fill me in on their situation; a kid somehow stowed away onto the bus. That. Is. Dedication. It was an honest mistake, but this kid needed to go back home. I help figure out a solution that helped everyone involved, and we initiate the plan and go on our way.

We finally make it down to Baton Rouge (I got there first, I win), checked in, and everything is great. I see two of my friends and find out that they too are staying in the same dorm, which makes things so much better. So I thought. Although it rained the entire time there, it didn't deter the kids from having a good time. The first day went by smoothly, and now its time to go to bed. Well when you have a group of boys ages 13 - 18, you can assure that they will not go to bed even though they have to be up at 6 in the morning. The bad thing about this dorm is that the doors slammed; and it was loud. They were relatively quiet, but going in and out of the doors was torture and I believe I was seconds away from a murder case.

After getting little sleep that night, we start the next day. After getting all the kids to their classes and contests, I took a nap. Woke up, saw some friends randomly, ate lunch with some of the girls, and ran some errands in Baton Rouge. On the second day, the parish likes to take the kids to the mall. I knew this, and was fully prepared. Of course it was raining this day. After all the boys were done with their contests, they decided they wanted to stay at the union until it was time to go to the mall. GREAT! I know where ALL of you are and its on the way out (sorta). It was 2pm. 4:30pm rolls around, I tell them I'm coming to get them and be ready. I get there, and they find where I am, and they have two of the girls with them. GET IN THIS CAR LETS GO!!! Well for some reason, the girls has called the female chaperone to come get them instead. Wait, what?! No sense was to be made of this. I inform them to get in this car and lets go, and they WALK BACK INTO THE UNION. Pizissed.

Now lets think about this for a moment. They were with the boys who have known for 2 and a half hours, that I was coming to get them from the Union. I told them 20 minutes before I came to get them that I was coming to get them. You were with them, what possessed you to call the female chaperone to come get you?

Okay whatever, so I try calling the female chaperone to not come. She doesn't answer. By this point, I'm over it as I usually am, and decide to go back to the girl's dorm (which has a piano) to wait for them to return. With the rain and the traffic, it took them WAY too long to return, which limited their time at the mall. Whatevs, long hair don't care.

We get to the mall, tell them what time they should meet back up and they should eat before that time. Great. I send them a text to say "Meet at the tables beside the escalator exit. I'm sleeping on a couch, 10 points to whomever finds me first". Ladies and gentlemen, that is what we call 'incentives'. So all but two of the kids show up to look at me sleeping, which was great because they were almost all there. One of the girls states "****** and ****** are getting a pizza". Hmmmm, they should've eaten already, but whatever they can eat in the car I guess. We all get in the car and we wait for the two girls to get their pizza. We needed to leave to be at the assembly for the night, so instead of everyone waiting, I let the female chaperone take half of the kids to the assembly on campus while I waited on the two girls. 20 minutes and an attitude adjustment later, the girls come out. WITHOUT PIZZA! Pizissed. I go off: "Where is the pizza?" "Why don't I have your number in my phone?". They shrugged their shoulders. WTF you mean you don't know?!?! You know something! I WANT AN ANSWER, DO YOU THINK BEFORE YOU ACT? Clearly, this is what a parent feels like and you'd think I'd be a better kid at this point. Immaturity as an art form

We get to the assembly just in time. I sit with the organization I was a part of while I was there and catch up and talk about the changes that were made. I take one of the members with me to see my little brother/friend Kelvin, which turned out to be a great idea. We return, I pick up my kids, and its time for sleep. I hang out with my friends and play guitar and listen to music with them, and return back to my floor just before midnight. Everything is quiet, so I'm home free. Except I'm starving. So I get dressed and prep myself for some Taco Bell. I walk out the door to see one of my kids going into his room. At first I didn't think twice about it, then I decided to go into the room just to make sure. I enter the room, and the kid has a slightly swollen eye with a cut underneath. Pizissed. So I ask how he get the cut, and he responds with by "falling down the stairs." SERIOUSLY!!??!!? He exclaims that he is fine and that nothing needed to be done. Clearly, you don't know Annette, and she'd be the first to say that this was a case waiting to happen.

I go downstairs to get a dorm dad (hahaha) but they're all sleeping at this point (there were none on my floor). I see the RA and tell him what happened, and he states that he too needs to fill out an accident report. Awesome. We go upstairs to the room, and my kid has ice on his eye courtesy of his roommate. The RA asks which stairwell the kid fell down in, which he responds with: "I didn't want to get anyone in trouble, but I get hit in the face with a shoe." SERIOUSLY?!?!!?!? Pizissed but laughing my butt off. After we all laugh, we get a dorm dad, clean up his eye area and bandage it and send them to bed. By this point, Taco Bell was a distant memory and sleep was the clear choice to be made.

The next day was a breeze. Everyone got up, went to their contests and classes, they all ended early, they took care of themselves, and I got to catch up with a myriad of friends. It was perfect. Even got to see my cousin's "Stupid Big" house and all of its amenities. Aside from a text argument that ruined my mood, the night was highly successful. That night, the kids promised to be quiet because they knew I had to drive in the morning. So considerate. They lied. After I looked for the stolen trash can (which reappeared that morning so no harm no foul), I decided to just go to bed. They were loud, but I tried to ignore it. Eventually, I gave up, and went out the door. I knock on the door of the room next to mine, and told them they were too loud and I was trying to sleep. One of the little lying beasts had the nerve to tell me that they weren't making any noise. Oh really? So that's some other random kid talking about ***** High School coming straight through the wall to my ear?

I left and tried again. I gave them about 3 minutes, and decided to clean house. I go out the door to see them all in the hall. I yell "Go to YOUR room. Not A room, but YOUR room". As soon as I say that, I see a kid down the hall who's arms are covered in shaving cream. Wait, what? The dorm dad had apprehended him and told him to go back to his floor and that he was in trouble. Consequently, the kids I made leave my kids' room were also from shaving cream kid's parish, and he was quick to rat them out: "THAT KID IS FROM ****** TOO!" Dorm dad clearly didn't care about that other kid because the one he was holding was covered in shaving cream.

I plopped a chair out in the hall way and made sure any other kids I saw went into their rooms and stayed there. Even though this hindered my length of sleep, I was pleased with the outcome.

The next morning, the kids woke up on time, packed and ready to go. I was still dog tired, but had to do my job. I went to my kids' rooms to check for cleanliness. All them hoes dirty. I couldn't even fathom trying to get them back upstairs, so I just picked up everything and threw it away. Long hair don't care. Go down to the car, loaded up luggage, to realize that two of the girls were not there. SAME TWO GIRLS WHO WERE LATE FROM THE MALL. Pizissed. I'm ready to go.

We wait for them, I serenade a few agents with my crisp guitar playing and smooth vocal styling until it was time to go. We finally get out, and we go to Pancakes' International House. After we're done eating, we start the 4 hour trek back home. Me in my sleep deprived state, somehow get a speeding ticket. Told you, I don't make promises The cop was so short and to the point, that I didn't get to try and talk my way out of it. I was still trying to wake up, so whatever; need to pay that one soon.

I make record time back, and say my goodbyes to the kids. I call up some friends and get a sno-cone, switch cars with Annette, go help Geoff and his old roommate move out of storage, was involved in an awkward moment that seemed to last forever (Geoff knows), and I finally make it back home. I wake up the next day pretty late in the day, have a late lunch with a friend and we talk and catch up for a while. I then go to Sonic and sit with Chublet and talk with him. I go see my nephew, sister-in-law, and oldest brother, then I get on the road to Georgia. I leave at night since my A/C doesn't work, and wanted to drive when it was cool out.

I stop at the gas station up the street from my parents house for fruity sodas and chips, when this older, visibly drunk, lady comes up to my car. This seems oddly familiar... "Excuse me big boy, can I possibly get a ride to my girlfriend's house? She lives right by Burger King". This is probably a bad idea... I tell her yes, but that I needed to go into the store first. I go in and buy chips and some Peach Crush, but then in her drunken state she asks if she can have some Funyons. Somehow, I was thinking no, but said okay? Because she gets the Funyons and cigarettes, and I pay for them. Whatevs, I can be nice every so often I guess. We get in the car, and I start my drive to Burger King.

Lady: I sure do appreciate this ride big boy. But I need to go make some coins real quick, turn at the corner
Me: I'm sorry? I thought you needed to go to Burger King
Lady: I can't go to my girl's house until I make these coins first. Just turn here at the corner. Passes the street NO!! YOU MISSED IT!!! PLEASE LET ME GO MAKE THESE COINS!!
Me: I don't know where you wanted me to turn, I really need to start driving, I don't have time to take you somewhere else.

At this point I'm thinking that I can just drop her off wherever she was trying to go, and just leave her there with no regrets. She was angrily eating the Funyons in my car and it was just getting awkward. I don't live here, I don't know her.

Me: Fine. Where do I need to go?
Lady: Okay, turn around. Turn at the corner. Okay turn here. Okay pull over right here
Me:There's nothing here, are you sure you want to get out here?
Lady: Starts to rub my shoulder. I'm fine with right here big boy, I'm about to make these coins.
Me: OOOHHHHH NOOoooooo. I'm taking you to your friend's house.
Hooker: NOO!!! WHY WON'T YOU LET ME MAKE THESE COINS! I JUST WANT 25 or 30 DOLLARS!! I CAN'T GO TO MY FRIEND'S HOUSE WITHOUT THESE COINS! I NEED IT SO I CAN GET ME SOME CREDENTIALS
Me: No thanks. I'm taking you to your friends house; she'll understand.
Hooker: FINE! IF YOU NOT GONNA LET ME MAKE THESE COINS THEN YOU CAN JUST TAKE ME BACK TO THE STATION THEN! I WAS GOING TO GIVE YOU THE BEST BLOWJOB OF YOUR LIFE!
Me: That's okay, I don't like blow jobs.
Hooker: HELL THAT'S OKAY I WAS GONNA F*** YOU IN THE PROCESS! I'M CLEAN! Let me have 5 dollars so I can get me some credentials.
Me: Ma'am, I don't have any cash, plus I already bought you Funyons and cigarettes.
Hooker: NO BUT I NEED 5 DOLLARS! I GOTTA BUY ME SOME CIGARS, AND CIGARETTES, AND SOME MORE CHIPS! JUST GIVE ME 5 DOLLARS BIG BOY!
Me: I don't have 5 dollars, I'm sorry.

She gets out of my car, and I can't help but wonder why she got so angry and how that is good for her line of work. I sure belligerence isn't a good characteristic to have to get "coins".

In shock of my ability to pick up hookers, I go to Chublet's job and tell him what had just happened, and make my way to Georgia. It took longer than usual probably due to my lack of sleep that week, some unforeseen illness, or some type of skin-to-skin contact rupee the hooker gave me. Needless to say, I took many a nap, and got there 15 hours later.

Barberitos gave me some nasty nachos and I'm kind of still angry about it. ~!Antoine!~

The Tanzanian Wedding

I wanted to try and do a vlog post, but clearly i'm not good at it. All my stories are lengthy because lets be honest, I love hearing myself talk. But if you can muster the strength to listen/watch all of these two videos, then it will totally be worth your time. Enjoy the 'Tanzanian Wedding'.



Not crunk enough. ~!Antoine!~

Little Brother's Guide to Pleasing Your Older Brothers

Growing up the youngest of 4 was tough. There was the constant competition, the battle of 'who's clothes are these', hormonal psychopathy, and food portion debates. It is very hard being the youngest, and I am offering up this guide to help all those other youngest siblings in need of aid.

Disclaimer: This is directed more towards pleasing brothers; or butch sisters.

1: Treat Them Equally
For those of you who have only one older sibling, this may not apply to you. For those of us who have multiple older siblings, the one thing you need to know is treating your brothers equally is very key. No this isn't one of those civil rights movements, this is a selfish time management technique. If you give one brother more attention than the other, the others will become jealous and make you pay for it in some fashion undesirable to you. Now my brothers will deny this, because I chose the "little attention as possible" route. This includes not caring, not asking questions about the long term effects of their lives, ignoring their friends, and avoid their messes.

There are still really close friends of my brothers whose names I still do not know.

Please note that this is different from you trying to get attention from them

2: Utilize Your Gifts
Although my parents will contest to my unspoiled and independent nature, I would still use the powers of "youngest child". By being the youngest, I was automatically the cutest and sweetest child who needed the most care and attention from adults. Having this power with adults, the best way to please your brothers is to use your gifts to THEIR advantage. Unfortunately, I only used my gifts to MY advantage due to my 'not caring' policy; but I urge you to throw your older siblings a bone every so often.

3: Take Care Of Yourself
For parents, having multiple children, especially if their age difference is somewhat significant, leads to a babysitting bill of $0. Of course, the older siblings aren't necessarily keen on this duty, often leading to resentment. The best way to alleviate this issue is become super mature at an early age, so that you may take care of yourself when the parents are away. Learn how to make PB&J sandwiches; build your arm strength so you can get the water jug out of the fridge and pour you some of that!; learn to read or do math to occupy your time; Go in the backyard and sing to the trees; most importantly do not rely on your older siblings for these things or they will have more power over you.

4: Feed Them
Food is one hell of a drug. Learning how to prepare food is very essential to this process. Now not everyone is blessed enough to have a Miss Sister Jefferson down the street (candy store lady of the millennium); so this may require a little finesse. One thing you have in your favor of helping feed your older siblings, is that you have the same DNA and most likely will enjoy the same things. But the most important skill you will need to use to properly complete this task is to channel your inner fat kid. You will be trying a lot of different food stuffs to get that perfect recipe.

For Wash it was simple. A peanut butter sandwich and a slice of cheese. Done.

Marieaux was a little trickier to find out, but the conclusion was as long as it wasn't cornbread stuffing or dressing, he'd eat it - if you made it for him. Sometimes the best food is something someone made for you.

Andre required the inner fat kid (well I'm a real fat kid lets be honest). After months of trying, this dish was able to calm the 9 year senior's inner beast: bologna and grape jelly sandwich.

Needless to say I am currently a culinary master.

5: Like The Same Things; Or Fake It
No matter what you're into, the one thing that will bring a smile on your older siblings faces is that you enjoy the things they enjoy. It didn't matter that I wanted sit on the floor and read books and do math all day, I needed to expand my horizons. Having brothers, sports (including wrestling) was all I needed. You only need one thing, so be prepared. Watching ESPN will give you all the information you need to strike up a conversation. Even if you have a sister, ESPN has something for her. Just spout out some random facts you heard the commentator say and you'll be set. Make sure you know which sports they enjoy, its a safe bet that Football and Basketball are on that list.

6: Show Them Your Power
This tip comes from the old saying "if they do it once, they won't do it again". If things are a little rocky with your relationship with your siblings, show them that you have the power to embarrass them and that you're not afraid to use it. This skill may require you to be an extrovert, but introverts can also use this one tip. There are many ways to embarrass your older siblings in their teenage years, and if you pay the right amount attention to what they do, you'll know how to do this. If you don't know, then one sure fire way to do it is old baby pictures.

Parents love taking pictures of their kids doing silly things, then putting them somewhere for a walk down memory lane. But it's just not the picture itself, but a good caption for the picture will always help. For example:
Color Swatch
Big Head; you know which one
Static Shock Baby

Be creative. Use it once. Then they'll know that keeping you happy and being friends is the best way to prevent this from happening again.

7: Talk Them Up
The ego of an older sibling is very fragile, so whenever you can, talk them up. Its always special to know that your little brother/sister talks well about you. It makes their self-esteem go up, and it keeps them happy. They're your role model, and no role model is going to want to do bad things to or around those who are modeling them. Consequently, this is also another way to get them to do things you want, like drive you to the store or buy you a dixie cup.

8: Become An Expert
New things come out all the time, and the best thing for you to do is to become an expert in one of those things that you older siblings may be interested in. Because once you're the expert, they'll have to be nice to get the information from you. For me, it was the CD burner. Once it came out, I worked one summer and bought one for the family computer. It was mine and I was the expert in it. I didn't even like CDs, and to this day own maybe 3? 4? All of them Britney Spears (not sorry). But the fact of the matter is that they had to come to me about how to properly use the burner. Insta-respect and they stayed happy when they received the information.

9: Cookies
Give them cookies. Cookies solves many a problem.

10: The Last Resort
If all else fails, you can try this trick that worked for me. Be bigger than them. Once you're bigger than them, you don't have to take any of their crap. Yeah there's the "I'm older than you card" but that only usually worked because they were also bigger than you. Once you are bigger, they won't use that card too often. Most of the time, all you have to do is stand and give them the "I Wish A M***** F***** Would" look, and you win. And everyone likes winning. They'll stay pleased because you haven't stepped on their neck.

Conclusion
These tips may not work for everyone, but this will get you started in the right direction of being a successful youngest sibling.

I like to give them cookies, and watch them fight over them. ~!Antoine!~

Unfortunate Police Run-Ins: DWB

My life is awesome. I decided to do this special post because of the proximity of time it happened. The story is still fresh in my mind because it hasn't been 24 hours since the beginning of its happenings. Hope you enjoy the read.

Now Antoine doesn't ever play the race card: unless he's talking about cheese. I have a myriad of UPR's, and I've always heralded the officers for doing their job. I always feel like it's a nice gesture to thank the police officer for doing what is very unpopular to do to keep our streets safe and our laws upheld. Sometimes.

This particular story started out like any other, a group of friends meeting up to celebrate a birthday. I go pick up my friend Jessica to take her to the birthday girl's apartment for pre-gaming before we go downtown. Nothing shady, they were still getting ready, eating food (that looked delicious, damn vegetarianism), and taking shots of vodka and tequila. No big deal, everyone is of age. The birthday girl asks who is going to be the DD, and I raise my hand because at this point in my life, I have come to know that my calling in life is to be a professional DD...which proved to come quite in handy.

We all decided that my vehicle would be the vessel that would get us to downtown, which is about 2.5 miles away (2 of those miles are the campus of the school). So the 7 of us pile into my Volvo sedan and start the trek downtown. As the girls were having a blast being packed in like sardines in my car and listening to music, you'll never guess what happened.

I should probably get some theme music for when this happens because at this point, it's OOC.

I go to the nearest parking lot because I do not want to be on the side of the street where there is no shoulder (bike lines ftw). There, the police officer asks for my ID. So I proceed to get out of the car due to my inability to reach anything other than the steering wheel because I was playing Clown Car with the birthday party. The officer tells me to stay in the car. I'm sorry sir, I don't think you understand the concept of being fat. I hand him my id, and you can feel the fear in the car. I am sure that I heard a prayer or two, and probably a hail Mary, coming from the passenger and back seats. As I'm sitting in my car, the only thing I want to do is comfort the party to state that everything would be okay. I had not yet been told why I was pulled over, but I've been trained for situations like these. The police officer returns:

Cop: Mr. Jefferson, could you step out of the car?
(I step out of my car in a sigh of relief and victory after being so close to the steering wheel)
Cop: Mr. Jefferson, the reason why we stopped you is because you have a tail light out. Did you know about that?
Me: Yes sir, it just happened, my dash showed me.
(About 5 more minutes of banter about my tail lights that were out.)
Cop: Mr. Jefferson, I am going to be honest with you, we smelled weed right before we pulled you over.
Me:(OH REALLY!!?!?) Ummm okay...
Cop: Is there anything you want to tell me, tell me now, just make it easier on yourself.
Me: (Sorry sir, I've studied ninja techniques under the great Annette, that boosh won't work on me) No sir, we haven't been smoking nor do I smoke.
Cop: Okay. You can go take a seat on the curb.

This is not the first time I've been pulled over for one reason, and got my car searched for weed (look out for that story). So by this point, I was well prepared for the situation.

The next 20 minutes, the officer takes every passenger out and asks them the same round of questions they ask me. At this point I'm feeling terrible because this is the literal first 30 minutes of the birthday, and our friend is spending them being interrogated by the police who is searching for marijuana. (I mean clearly, that's how one should always start their birthday)

The officer asks me to come back and states that he KNOWS that he smelled marijuana and that if I wasn't going to confess to it, that he needs to check the car. Me trying to increase my bad assitude, ask the police officer if he needed a warrant to search my car. I am fairly certain that there is some kind of rule out there that says he does. He tells me that he in fact does NOT need a warrant to search my car because he was looking for weed and that he can do it for that reason. It became quite unmistakeable that I always need a lawyer with me.

I allow the officer to search my car, and the 7 of us watch the process. The proprietor of the front seat has become restless and begins to ask Jessica questions about what she does. Jess having a 'long hair don't care' attitude, begins to casually tell the party about what she does. I begin to speak with the police officers because I have nothing better to do as well. Eventually, there is this group dialogue being exchanged about a lot of subjects and it was like we're all one big happy family. One officer asks me to open my trunk, so I direct him on how to open it. He opens the trunk, and another officer comments: "Wow, its not everyday that you see a gas can and a tool box in the back of a Volvo" (Sir, if you had any idea how OFTEN I've had to use that gas can, you would most likely revoke my license).

After the search, we're all allowed to get back in the vehicle. I receive a warning for my non functioning tail light, and we go about our business. Back in the car, there is a resounding rejoicing of our victory over the police drill. One person asseverates an overwhelming amount of pride because the officer radioed the rest of the squad to state that they "had a bust and we're going to get them". Nope, sorry, not today. And by sorry, I mean not sorry.

Not that I did anything out of the ordinary, but the party seemed to be impressed and grateful for my performance, and recanted the ordeal throughout the night to friends and strangers they saw downtown. I was known as "The Driver" for the rest of the night (because I wasn't already that? haha). The night was a blast, and we believe the birthday girl really enjoyed herself.

We pick up a person with a car, and for the ride home, were a bit more comfortable having split up. I drop the girls off, and I head home. I change my Facebook status to reflect the shear awesomeness of the night, and go about my business. I ended up leaving the house twice after I got home (it made me feel popular), the second time I left was to keep a friend company while he worked on a pair of wings for his show.

When 9am rolled around, I realized that I did not have my phone with me, so I pull out my laptop to check my email (just in case a student or co-worker needed something). When I get to the page, I am flabbergasted at one of the emails that I saw. The police officer that pulled me over had emailed me! Why? Because "When they ran my license nothing showed up, but later on they realized that I had a warrant out for my arrest." He then gave me his number to call if I had any questions before 7am, otherwise I should just call the jail to arrange turning myself in (No sir, a normal person is sleeping at 5am and isn't looking to voluntarily turn themselves in to the jail). Although I wanted to spend more time with my friend (for moral support), I needed to go home asap and take care of this. A myriad of thoughts went through my brain: Will they let me teach first then I can go to jail? Can I teach my class via Skype from the jail cell? Are the police going to be waiting at my front door when I get home? How did they get my email address?

I get home, and find my phone on the charger (not charging wtf?) with the alarm going off. I turn off the alarm and instantly call Annette. I knew what the warrant was for, and I thought that my mother had taken care of the ticket because she offered to do it a few months ago when she got the letter about it (THANKS MOM! ). Once we connect, she stated that she had forgotten to do it, and this was the first day she DID NOT have the ticket and information in her purse. Hello Irony. We do some digging and we find the information I need to pay the ticket and other things so I don't get arrested and have to teach my class from behind bars.

Once that is done, I text Jessica and the birthday girl, as well as commenting on my status about the addition to the situation. It was just icing on the cake. Here comes the cherry: a friend comments on my status and asks "Antoine, did you get pulled over (describes the parking lot I got pulled over in)?" I respond with a yes, then he states that he and his friends were at the apartment complex that could be seen from the parking lot and wondered 1)why we were being pulled over and 2) how so many people got out of my car. I laugh hysterically, and he produces a PICTURE of the night's UPR:

My friend's caption read: "Antoine being harassed by *** PD. Having a tail light out seems like a valid reason to search his car for weed. The guy doesn't even drink!"

Its also important to mention that a number of statuses were people saying "DWB?". (Sorry general public, I'm not fluent in abbrevs.) I go and Urban Dictionary 'DWB' and find out its meaning, and find it quite appropriate. That is why it is the title of this post.

Maybe my life IS a series of belligerent police run-ins. ~!Antoine!~