A Laugh Threatening Situation

Chapter 11 – Gumballsy

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After the very tall, very emasculating white Russian, I started dating a girl much shorter than me.

Her name was Mary and she was unreliable, untrustworthy, unfaithful, and undeniably attractive.

Our relationship wasn’t based on much more than size and fit. I’m not sure we even really liked each other, but the attraction was animalistic.

Our pattern was: make each other mad, make up, repeat.

If the Russian had made me feel inadequate in bed, Mary more than made up for it.

Showers were steamier.  Sleep impossible. And carpet burn became a chronic problem.

One time she asked me to tie her up on the couch. Which was fun until I got up to get a can of Reddi Whip and while standing naked in front of the fridge, my two roommates came home.

They were very happy to sit and make friendly conversation while Mary wriggled.

I shooed them off, but Mary and I argued for a while after that.

It was during this down period that I got a phone call from a Barney Phife-sounding cop asking if I knew her.

I assumed it was a friend playing a prank until they asked me if the license plates were still on my car.

I looked outside and sure enough, they were gone.

Turns out Mary had so many unpaid speeding fines, she couldn’t renew her registration, so she’d “borrowed” my plates without asking me so she could drive North to visit her parents.

The cop asked me if I was going to come bail her out and I reluctantly agreed, provided they gave me a number for any other cops to call in the event I got pulled over for driving without plates.

Mary got caught speeding in a notorious North Carolina speed trap town about three hours away, which was plenty of time for me to think about how unhealthy our relationship was.

When I arrived, Barney Phife informed me she’d been charged with speeding, driving an uninsured and unregistered vehicle, driving a vehicle with an expired safety inspection, and driving with a suspended license.

As such, her car had been impounded and she was behind bars. To get her out I needed to come up with $200 cash.

This was a lot of money to me back then, and after driving all that way, a real surprise.

I opened my wallet: fifty-five bucks. I held it up to the officer, hopeful.

“Nope. Two hundred dollars.”

I asked him where the nearest bank was and set off, not feeling good about Mary’s odds of finding freedom any time soon.

I walked around the block and found the ATM. Available funds: $140. This left me five bucks short. Surely the cop would take pity on a struggling student and this would be enough.

“Nope. Two hundred dollars.”

I headed back to my car to scrounge around in the ashtray for coins. I looked under the seats and carpet for whatever I could find and miraculously came up with another $4.85. This left me just fifteen cents short.

I walked back into the podunk police station and plonked my pile of cash and coins on the counter. Barney tallied it up. I was feeling optimistic, $199.85 had to suffice.

“Nope. Two hundred dollars.”

Now, I’ve just handed this cop all the money to my name to bail out a girl I’m sure I don’t like anymore and he’s being a stickler over fifteen measly cents.

Barney smirks at me from behind his glass wall and disappears to wherever they keep the doughnuts.

I plop down on a pine bench to assess the situation. I start thinking of solutions. Bang on the glass and beg? Go out to the street and beg? Go home and leave this entire mess behind me?

And then, out of the corner of my eye, behind the door, I see an old red 5¢ gumball machine. I look around. Barney is nowhere to be seen. No other cops. No cameras.

I try to lift it. Cast iron base. Super heavy. I slowly drag it out from behind the door and out of the police station, shielding it as best as I can with my body. Once outside, I pick it up, run behind the building, and smash it against the brick wall.

Gumballs and coins roll everywhere.

I grab three nickels, walk back into the station, bang on the glass, and slam all my cash and coins down on the counter.

“Two hundred dollars.”

Barney takes the money and gives me Mary.

By now I’m not that happy to see her. And I think she should be a lot happier to see me than she seems.

We walk out of the station, silent.

“Hey, boy!”

It’s Barney. I’m sure I’m busted. My life is over. Now Mary is going to have to bail me out.

I turn around, ready to confess my crime and accept whatever punishment Barney gives me.

And what Barney gives me, is my license plates.

A flood of relief flows through me as I take them from his outstretched hand and agree to drive safely.

Mary still isn’t speaking as I screw the plates back on my car.

And she still isn’t speaking as we start to drive away. But when I make a U-turn back towards the station she speaks up.

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot something.”

I jump out of the car, engine idling, grab the busted gumball machine, and toss it in the trunk.

She gives me a look.

“What the hell is that?”

I pop a stale gumball in my mouth.

“A souvenir.”

When I got home I replaced the glass, filled it with fresh gumballs, and collected bags of nickels from my roommates.

I kept that machine for years.

But the second we got home, I let Mary go.

Life Pro Tips

• Crazy lovers are lots of fun until they’re not. Get out before they get you in jail. Or worse.
• These days cameras are everywhere, which makes this sort of mischief almost impossible. Sadly. So if this ever happens to you, just go ask a stranger for 15¢.
• Reminder: You don’t have to almost die for your life as you know it to end. One stupid stunt might be enough.

 

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