Back in the day, when I was just a high-school MoFo, Wags and I used to run a pretty tight crew. All throughout our Junior & Senior years, we had ourselves what you might call “lackeys”. Now, don’t get all offended by the term “lackey”, they were basically the younger friends that we took under our wing. They would take our messages, get stuff for us, basically like gophers. In return, they got to hang with us, drive around town doing crazy shit with us, and knew that we’d always cover their backs. Well, our Senior year, our school went to this “block scheduling” bullshit, where you basically had 3-4 classes on one day, and then 3-4 different classes the next, alternating every other day. Well, Wags and I only needed elective credits our Senior years, but lo and behold the school fucked up both our schedules. Gave us classes that we’d already taken and didn’t need. So we go into the office and tell them to switch. They tell us that they can drop all the unneeded classes today, and add the new classes in two days. See, they were all fucked up because of this new schedule, and everybody was pissed so they had to make days for people to fix their jacked-up classes. So we go in two days later, and find that all the classes we want are taken. They give us this bullshit about how dropping the classes was a mistake, and how now we were screwed because we only had one class apiece. We didn’t see that as being screwed. We each had one class, every other day. That ain’t screwed, that’s a motherfuckin’ party.
So we start showing up at the same usual time, we get our messages, then we’d leave school. We’d usually go down to Del Taco to get food, play some games at the arcade, and then go cause havok wherever we could. We were having fun, kicking back our Senior year, just tryin’ to find shit to do. Now, I don’t know how the conversation started, but one day were at my house and my Mother starts talking about when she was a kid, how they tried shooting water pistols from their cars, and how the cops caught them and whatnot. Wags and I just lit up at the prospect, and she’s telling us how its a dumb idea, that she got caught and we’d get caught too, but we weren’t listening. We go out to my car, and turn the winshield wiper squirters to the left and right, respectively. Then we take her out for a test drive. We end up near Wags’ place at night, and we drive up next to some bitch who cut me off. We get her to roll down her window, and with the squirters perfectly aimed, I get her right in the face. We haul ass down the road, and the bitch is chasing us all around Irvine. We’re swerving, ducking and weaving around corners and all around the Westpark area, and we finally ditch her. The adrenaline rush was all it took: we were hooked.
The next day we met up and drove down to the shopping center by the Westpark movie theatre, (which, coincidentally, Mabs was the manager of at the time) and we pull up next to the supermarket. We would wait until the time was right, and we’d drive along with the squirter on, tagging people in the back. Then we’d nonchalantly drive around the corner, then we’d book. It was hysterical, people never seemed to know where the shit was coming from. We’d get people in cars with their windows rolled down, we’d get people walking the street, nobody was safe from us.
One day Wags mentions that he’s not satisfied with the power of the squirters, coupled with the fact that since he can’t drive, he can’t squirt. So what do we do? We get a Super Soaker from the store. Not a huge one, just one of the 100 or 200 foot-range, one barreled MoFo. Wags was ready for action, and I was ready to drive. We’d drive over to the Tustin Marketplace, and do a circular route past the hardware store, Toys R Us, and Ikea, with Wags dousing people along the way. This one time Wags squirted a guy going into the hardware store, and we hauled ass up to Toys R Us. I look out the side, and I see this guy making like an olympic sprinter trying to cut us off before we got to the exit. Not one to pass up a challenge, I haul ass up to the exit just before Mr. Track-team huffs and puffs his way to the car. Bummer for him. Then there was another time at the Ikea, we got this guy on a bike right in the face, and he immediately starts pedaling after us. He’s doing his best to grab the tail end of the car, and we’re all wondering what the Hell he was planning to do once he caught it. Everyone wanted me to slam on the brakes, but he’d crash into my bumper and probably kill himself. I just hit the gas and laughed as he got a big cloud of exhaust in his face.
One day, when we were going from Wags’ house to mine, we come up to this point on Harvard st. where it tapers into one lane. This older guy in an Oldsmobile is driving alongside, and he won’t let us pass him up. When we speed up, he speeds up. When we slow, he slows. He almost ran me off the damn road! I swerve in behind him at the last minute, and I am PISSED. I look over at Wags, who is already pumping the Super Soaker, and he says “I’m already on it!” So we drive up to the corner of Harvard and Walnut, which back then had a four-way stop sign. He’s turning right, so we make like we’re turning left. Wags signals the guy to roll down his window, he does, and gets a mouthful of H2O. We book it left, and I look in the rearview and see him hauling ass after us, almost causing an accident in the intersection. Now, Im damn good driver, and I know that if I go up to the light ahead he can block me off, so I let him pass me so I can take one of the other routes. This is where it gets nuts. The guy speeds up, swerves to the right and turns his car completely horizontal, blocking off the road in front of me. Then he gets out of the car and lumbers towards us. Now, you’ve gotta understand that Wags and I are not afraid at this point. In my Senior year, my only class was weight training, and I was a 6 foot 2″ mass of a man, who kicks football player’s asses. Wags is shorter than I am, but he’s on the Track team, he’s lightning fast, and he’s Japanese and well trained in Karate. This old guy is probably 5 foot 10, and of a slightly wusslike stature. So you can see our confusion at the old man’s bravado. He points at me, and signals for me to get out of the car. Wags and I look at each other and in unison say “What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” So, noticing the pileup of cars behind us honking, and not wanting to stick around for the Irvine Police to show up, we swerved around him and flipped him the bird.
By this time, our lackeys were completely into it. They were begging us to let them ride along. When we did, we’d have them actually get out of the car, squirt people, dive back in and we’d high-tail it outta there. We had one buddy named Tommy get out about a block down the road, and we drove alongside this old guy pretending to look for someones house. Tommy comes haulin’ ass up the street, Wags whips out his camera, and takes an awesome series of photos. From Tommy running up from behind, squirting the old guy in the back of the noggin’, haulin’ ass back the other way, the old guy flipping him the bird, and finally, the old guy laughing as he realized what was going on. It was a damn good time.
Months pass by, December rolls around, we’ve been squirting people since late September. And one day it happens, the Super Soaker breaks. We told our lackey Amor to throw it in the garbage while we were at the gas station. We were sad that it was gone, but Wags had plans for a bigger one anyway. Then the very next day, we’re in Northwood in Irvine, getting food at the Del Taco, and it is pouring rain outside. Wags and I were heading up to my house to play some games and watch TV. We come to the stoplight at the corner of Yale and Irvine Blvd., and we’re just about to make a left onto Irvine when Wags says “Bacon”. I check the rear-view and see an Irvine Police Department squad car. No worries, I’m thinking, we haven’t done anything wrong. But as soon as I make the left his lights go on. I pull over to the side, and wait. Wags and i discuss what he could be pulling us over for, and then he taps on the window. I roll it down, and the cop is in this big yellow poncho thing that all the cops wear on rainy days.
He says, “Hey boys, what’re ya up to?”
We respond with, “Nothing officer, just picking up some food.”
He says, “Shouldn’t you guys be in school?”
We say, “Nope, no classes right now, we’re Seniors.”
He says, “Right, right…..You boys don’t remember me at all, do you?”
I look to Wags, who is as puzzled as I am. I turn back to the officer, and reply with, “No sir, can’t say that we do.”
He replies with, “Well you should, I’m all wet.”
Sudden jolting realization and a fierce jump in my stomach. I look to Wags, who’s face had just gone pale. He mouths, “THE CRAZY GUY!” I nod slowly, and look back to the cop.
“Maybe I should paint the picture for you boys,” he says, “About 2 months ago, I was driving along Harvard in my civilian vehicle, when I notice some kids in a late model Toyota Celica attempting to pass me. I don’t let them. I proceeded to pull up to the corner at Walnut, where I was going to make a right turn. It was then that, I’m assuming you there,” he stated, pointing at Wags, “are the one who signaled me to roll down my window, and proceeded me to shoot me in the face with a high powered water gun.”
We sank back in our chairs, of all the people we could’ve squirted in the face, it had to be a damn cop. “You know, I’ve been looking for you guys for a long time. You’ve been my hobby for the past two months. We’ve got a big record on you guys at the station. We actually held a meeting this morning on what we were going to do about you. Then imagine my luck when I take my lunch break at Del Taco over there, and see you boys pull out of the drive-through. Oh man, it must be my lucky day. I’ve been waiting a long time for this boys, please step out of the vehicle.”
This was it, we were screwed, and we knew it. The officer then walked us over to the curb, and asked me to open the trunk. We then noticed that 3 other squad cars had pulled up behind us. I pop open the trunk, and the officer starts wading through the mounds of crap that I had piled up back there. We only prayed that he wouldn’t find the compartment with all the pictures of our squirting victims. Luckily he didn’t, but guess what he did find. The Super Soaker, which Amor had supposedly disposed of the day before. Wags and I both wished painful death upon Amor at that moment.
“So this is the culprit eh?” He smiled. Then he threw it on the front of his cruiser. He also emptied our pockets, throwing our posessions on the hood as well. He also threw my non-water-resistant pager as well, which I dove for and took back. Hey, we were already in a shitload of trouble, why hold back now? At this point the amount of squad cars had grown to a ridiculous amount, and officers were standing around in their ponchos pointing and laughing. We wondered why until one of the cops came up and said, “Hey, you finally caught ’em eh Captain?”
CAPTAIN!?!? Holy shit we squirted the Captain of the police force in the face? The cop then turns to us and says “Good job guys, real smooth.” Sonuvabitch.
Then the Captain tells us that we’re going to school. We look at each other and realize what time it is. He has coincidentally pulled us over in the only time every other day that we’re supposed to be in class. 500 to 1 shot, and he does it. Son of a bitch. He makes me drive my car to the school while he follows, and he drags us on campus and towards the principal’s office. On the way in, the Narcs (campus security) are making fun of us like they already know what’s going on. Wags and I are wondering how the fuck anybody here knows, when we get to Harry Meader, the principal’s office.
“Hey Greg,” he calls out, “how are you today?” The officer responds, “Not bad Harry, as you can see.” Wags and I are very confused at this point, when Meader looks at us and says, “Oh, you guys didn’t know? Greg and I here are best buddies, we’ve lived next door to each other for the last 10 years.”
It was about then that it dawned on me. We squirted the Captain of IPD, who just happens to be the principal’s best friend, and he just happened to catch us ditching the one class that we had for an hour every other day. Unless we could figure something out, we were fucked. They spent quite some time trying to scare us, saying that we’re going to jail and whatnot, but we knew the laws. Neither vehicle was moving at the time of the squirting, so we weren’t breaking any laws. Captain MacFarland started ranting on about how the container could have had acid in it, to which I replied, “How could we put acid into a plastic container?” That pissed him off. He said, “Dammit! If I hadn’t seen that it was a squirt gun, I could have returned fire and shot you! I’m so mad, you’re lucky I don’t shoot you right now!” Then Meader says that we should call up our parents and see what they have to say. Wags goes first, and spends his time convincing his Mother that he’s not going to jail. Then its my turn, and my Mom calls me a dumbass for not listening to her. Then she tells me to pick up my little sister on my way home.
Meader and the Captain are both pretty pissed that our parents are so nonchalant about the whole thing, so the Captain demands that we be punished. Not wanting to dissapoint his best buddy, Meader pulls up our attendance records. Since we never went to that one class every other day, we’d racked up over 40 unexcused abscences apiece, amounting to 80 detentions. Piled on top of the current detentions that we already had, Meader was quite upset to learn that there wasn’t enough time left in the school year for all those detentions. So what does he do? He slashes them down to 50 detentions apiece.
It took us a second to realize this, but the whole situation had turned to our advantage. The attendance office would have given us every one of those detentions no matter how many we needed to serve. And Captain MacFarland had no leg to stand on legally, so all he could do was try to scare us. With all this before him, he decided to let us go, promising vengeance. As for Wags and I, we were legends among the school. Notorious as the guys who were the hobby of the Captain of the police force. Did we serve those detentions? Ahh, maybe a few. The Narcs usually let us off for having “balls of steel to stand up to that guy”. MacFarland tried calling our houses to put the scare into us, but we didn’t give a shit, and he stopped calling. Although to this day, I still get pulled over in Irvine for absolutely no reason, and let go 10 minutes later. Oh well, that’s the price you pay for being a BadassMoFo.
