Tales From Your (Misspent) Youth

The neighborhood I grew up in is now full of million dollar homes. When I was a young kid though most of the homes were in the 30-40 thousand dollar range and every block had one or two abandoned houses and most of those were completely trashed. No doors, holes in the ceilings and walls crumbling down etc.

At the end of my street was a wooded area and there were a few old abandoned houses scattered about these woods. I think these old houses were built by gold miners in the 1800’s. Anyway, they were abandoned wrecks which I would poke around in all the time. I wasn’t the only one who would poke around in them. Others did too and they all seemed to have cans of spray paint. I saw more giant penises and humungous breasts painted on these walls than you can imagine. I also found an ample amount of porn magazines.

Across the creek was an abandoned psychiatric ward (I shit you not). Like every other abandoned building it was ransacked from top to bottom. No locked doors, no unbroken windows, glass everywhere. Furniture, mostly desks and chairs were broken and scattered every where.

One time while poking around in this defunct looney bin I went in to one of the rooms, probably an old office, and there was a cable hanging down through a broken out sky light. It wasn’t actually a cable, it was a bundle of these old plastic coated TV antenna cables and it conveniently had knots spaced evenly on up. Not being one to pass up on the opportunity I ninja’d up the cable, through the hatch and onto the roof.

Once on the roof I found a random broken piece of tile and chucked it into the open field behind the hospital and watched it corkscrew thru the air. That was cool and I knew exactly what I needed to do. I jumped back down the hatch and started peeling up ceramic tiles off the floor of the hospital, went outside chucked them onto the roof then ninja’d back up through the hatch.

Once back on the roof I gathered up my loot and snapped each tile into nice little quarters perfect for chucking. I actually used the edge of the hatch to snap each tile.

I was in heaven spinning these tiles trough the air, out into the open field but eventually even that great fun became tiresome. Especially considering it had been going on over the course of many days and many more tile excavation efforts.

My sights turned to an unbroken window on another abandoned building that was on the left side of the open field. Amazingly this abandoned building had never been breached by the hoodlums such as myself. I really wanted to breach it too. Anyway, I started trying to hit the unbroken window which was nearly an impossible tasks considering the crazy movement I would get out of my custom throwing tiles. Some of which would go sailing over the roof.

Unbeknownst to me (but I soon became one of the first to find out), the city police department was being evicted from its location and they were, at the very moment I was chucking tiles at it, looking over my target building as a possible relocation site.

With my errant tiles flying over the roof they thought they were under attack! My field was surrounded by an old chain link fence that had ivy growing on in but it wasn’t so dense that I couldn’t see figures running behind it. I didn’t realize how funny it was until years later. The fence was 8 feet high and these cops were running behind it crouched down like it was fucking dessert storm. I saw the foot cops but unfortunately did not see the cruiser coming around the other way.

I bolted, hopped down the hatch and went the other direction from where I saw the men. I couldn’t tell they were cops at the time. When I got out of the old hospital I had two choices. I could go straight across the road and down toward the creek or I could turn left and take the old road which was an easier route. The safer route was to go straight down toward the creek. With enough of a lead no one could ever catch me in those wood, that was my turf, but I hated going down at that section. It was steep with no path, heavy ivy and when you got to the creek, no good place to jump across. It was doable though, I’d done it before.

Since I didn’t see the cruiser coming down the other side I thought I was in the clear so I decided to take the easy route and turned left down the road. When I saw the cop car turn the corner, rather than bolting I decided play it cool and just walk. After all, how would he know it was me on the roof? I was just a kid walking along an old road. When he pulled up I’m not even sure he looked at me. He just said “get in the car”.

That was my first arrest. I was 10 years old.

Like any typical six or so year old, I was fascinated with those kiddie toy vending machines at the grocery store and the ones dispensing mini NFL helmets – you can still find these at Walmarts and such – in particular.

Anyway, I reasoned that skipping the 25-cent insert and just reaching into the machine from the bottom slot might could work. Of course, it didnt and my hand ended up stuck. And after a few minutes of struggling added some swelling, I was def going nowhere.

Fast forward forty minutes and we’ve got one ticked off dad, one kid with peed pants (from about halfway thru the ordeal) and a paramedic crew laughing over the fairly unusual call (some warm soapy water solved the problem, iirc)

interesting story on edge, what about the other times you were arrested?

[quote]MattyG35 wrote:
interesting story on edge, what about the other times you were arrested?[/quote]

I don’t really like the story about the other time I got arrested.

We had a fire station in my neighborhood that closed down due to California’s Proposition 13 in the mid 70’s. Now I finally had a building to snoop around in that hadn’t already been picked over for decades. The problem was finding a way in. This place actually had doors and locks as well as intact windows.

You guys know how in life the solution to problems often get discovered when you’re not even working on it? That was the case with finding a way into this fire house.

Me and some friends were playing around in this giant fig tree. I think we were playing tree tag or something. I noticed that the further out I got on this limb the lower it went and the closer it got to the fire station roof until finally I was able to drop down onto it. My friend Doug followed me.

There was a tower on the firehouse and of course Doug and I climbed up the ladder on the side to get to the very top. Luckily the line of site was obscured from my parent’s kitchen. My Mom had a history of being able to recognize my clothes from great distances when I was climbing around on neighbors roofs and stuff like that. If she had gone up to my bed room I would have been nailed 'cause the tower was visible from my bedroom.

Anyway, at the top of the tower Doug & I found a hatch with no lock on it! We opened the hatch and found there was a ladder going down the inside but more excitingly we found fire hoses draped over over a couple of bars!! Instead of using the ladder, you know we ninja’d down the fire hoses. (And LOL I just spelled ninja’d with two a’s and auto correct changed it. Ninja’d is a real word!)

Once inside the fire house we found more firefighting gear there than you can imagine. Axes, shovels, air tanks, masks, gloves, fire suits. Every thing you can think of. What got most of my interest was this giant display case filled with fireworks. I’m not talking about sparklers and piccolo petes either. The fire works in this display case were the big boys. The problem was the display case was locked and while I had no qualms about steeling, breaking stuff was not my style and I wasn’t going to break the display case (maybe due to being arrested for vandalism in the past). The only thing I ended up steeling was these very cool crampon type things used for climbing trees and telephone poles. Those things probably remained at my parents house until they moved about 15 years ago

One time my brother and I were walking home from elementary in winter, probably grade 5 or 6.
There was a telephone repair guy up one of the poles, I forget if he was on a ladder or a cherry picker, gut tells me it was a ladder.
Anyway, I thought it was a good idea to throw a snowball at him. He didn’t fall or anything, but wasn’t too happy. He was probably 10 houses down from where I lived when he was up on his ladder, and could clearly see which house I took off into after I made my “escape”.
Mom wasn’t happy. Thinking back, I’m just glad he didn’t fall. Having taken a small spill off of a ladder myself, the height he was at would have been pretty serious.

In middle school, think it was grade 8, our principal was sleeping on the roof as a fundraiser, everyone wanted to see him sleep on the roof so it was a noble cause, he was a good sport. But my brother and some other friends, they threw eggs up on the roof one night, from the ground level. I don’t think they hit him.

This other time, our middle school was next to the community centre, had two big soccer fields connected to it, and a couple of baseball diamonds. We always pissed off the conveners, throw eggs, talk shit, and just be little assholes. Well one night, the guy had had enough, and he gets into his pick-up truck and chases us through the field in the middle of the night with his lights on, pretty fuckin’ scary, I think everyone involved got away, I made it to a dog hole and at the fence and went through. But one of our friends, his brother, who wasn’t involved, was just wandering by one of the other corners of the field, and the convener grabbed him, and the kid pissed his pants! His dad was pretty mad, and we laughed our asses off. Ended up getting banned for one year, but then grew up and became friends with the older convener guys.

This other time, at our beach. Out their with our cousins, one happened to be a little fridge, just a fat kid, ate spaghetti with butter (glad he grew out of that). Anyway, we were jumping on a neighbour’s trampoline at night, and the guy didn’t like, and came out of his house chasing us. Guess who got caught? Our little fat cousin. The guy let him go, but then the fat little cousin asked for some privacy, so we wandered off like 25 feet, and see him strip down, and toss his shit covered underwear into the bush! That was one of the funniest fuckin’ things I can recall. A few summers later, we were out there again, just walking down the road at night, had a friend from the city with us, told him the story about pants-shitter, and as we’re walking, we go past a little pile of shit and my friend says to pants-shitter “Hey PS, you’re trailing!”. I can’t wait to tell that story at his wedding, if I’m invited lol.

My mom got mad at me for something I didn’t do. I went outside, climbed a tree, and hung out on our roof with my sister’s Game Boy. The house was a Cape Cod with a cedar shake roof and the chimney came out just a few feet behind the peak on the back side, so I was concealed from view from just about any angle. I decided to take a nap. It got dark. I woke up and it was 3-something AM (I didn’t know it was that late). I then scared the ever living shit out of my little sister when I knocked on her window to let me in the house. My dad ran buck naked upstairs followed by mom and her .357 mag. Sister screaming, dad naked, mom drawing a gun…good times.

I was 12. I then removed my window screen and left my window unlocked at all times.

This other time, the family was heading out somewhere, think I was about 10. We were alone in the car waiting for mom and dad, I pushed in the car lighter until it was orange, and told my twin to touch it. He did, and I got an earful.

I was in first or second grade, and my brother was four years younger than me, so two or three. I wrapped a bed sheet around him as many times as it would go (with his hands down by his side). I left a “tail” to grab, and, just as my mom walked into the room, yanked that “tail” with everything I had. I was SURE he was going to spin around like the Tasmanian Devil and be perfectly fine. Well, he simply fell HARD and Mom was sure I was evil incarnate.

[quote]pushharder wrote:
7 or 8 years old. Roanoke Island, NC where I lived.

The grocery store next door to my dad’s dry cleaning business stored their pop/soda/Coke (depending on what part of US you live) bottles outdoors behind the building. Back then (1968) you could pick up one or two cents a bottle for turning in used ones. I figured out how cool it was, not too mention easy money, to gather the bottles the store placed out back and take them into the store to advance my capitalistic endeavor.

Around and around we went before the store folks finally caught on and told my dad. Didn’t end well.[/quote]

I have a similar story and this is how me and my buddies used to get our beer money in high school:

A buddy of mine worked as a dish washer/prep cook at a local restaurant/bar/inn. He tipped us off that they would store their empty bottles outside neatly packed in cases ready for pick-up. They had a lot of empty cases filled with empty redeemable bottles (MA redeems glass bottles for 5 cents) every night. So, usually as dusk was settling in we’d load up the back of two pick ups full of these boxes and go redeem them.

We ended up with at least $75 bucks each time.

One night, after doing this and acquiring the booze we decided to go and loot one of the local driving ranges for golf balls. We drove one of the cars out onto the range and, for about an hour, loaded the trunk up with thousands of golf balls. We then proceeded to drive out to a small cliff overlooking Buzzards Bay and hit the balls into the ocean and drank beers. And good times were had by all.

I was about 7 or 8 and often played at a friend’s house down the block. He had a huge yard, the back of it was behind a big body shop. On the side of the shop was where all the wrecked cars went, also the impounds from bad accidents. So we’d look through the cars, sometimes seeing a little blood here and there.

This one old Cadillac just came in… really twisted up, rumored to have been hit by a train. Yeah, this one had blood in it… wait… clumps of hair, teeth on the dash. But what’s this grey smear all over the place? Brains… after that we didn’t look too close at the bad wrecks.

[quote]pushharder wrote:
In the early 80’s while I was in my early 20’s I was wanted in 13 different states for not paying speeding tickets.[/quote]

I’ve had my licence suspended over and over again for speeding. I use radar detector now and know where all the cameras are. It started when I was young riding a little 125cc two stroke at crazy speeds around the neighbourhood. I’ve just always been addicted to speed. Never put anyone in any danger though. When we street race we use a spotter to make sure the whole course is clear of other vehicles.

[quote]SexMachine wrote:

[quote]pushharder wrote:
In the early 80’s while I was in my early 20’s I was wanted in 13 different states for not paying speeding tickets.[/quote]

I’ve had my licence suspended over and over again for speeding. I use radar detector now and know where all the cameras are. It started when I was young riding a little 125cc two stroke at crazy speeds around the neighbourhood. I’ve just always been addicted to speed. Never put anyone in any danger though. When we street race we use a spotter to make sure the whole course is clear of other vehicles.[/quote]

You’re not still racing are you?
http://velocity.T-Nation.com/free_online_forum/music_movies_girls_life/new_resolution?id=5802253&pageNo=0

I got nothing unless we talk about misspent adulthood.

[quote]MattyG35 wrote:

[quote]SexMachine wrote:

[quote]pushharder wrote:
In the early 80’s while I was in my early 20’s I was wanted in 13 different states for not paying speeding tickets.[/quote]

I’ve had my licence suspended over and over again for speeding. I use radar detector now and know where all the cameras are. It started when I was young riding a little 125cc two stroke at crazy speeds around the neighbourhood. I’ve just always been addicted to speed. Never put anyone in any danger though. When we street race we use a spotter to make sure the whole course is clear of other vehicles.[/quote]

You’re not still racing are you?
http://velocity.T-Nation.com/free_online_forum/music_movies_girls_life/new_resolution?id=5802253&pageNo=0

[/quote]

That wasn’t my fault. I’ve never had an at fault accident. As I said in the other thread other drivers always cut me off and I’ve been rear ended by tailgating cocksuckers twice.

so most “I’ve got a friend” stories are really just the person talking being too embarrassed to admit it was them, but this really was a friend of mine and not me. Still a good story, though.

A mate of mine’s big brother was looking after their neighbours garden while they were on holiday, mowing the lawn and whatnot. They’d left him a key for the house so he could get a drink of lemonade or whatever after doing the chores. After quenching the thirst brought on by a hard day’s labour, he decided to use the unrestricted and unsupervised access to do a little snooping.

Imagine his surprise when he found a suitcase under the bed that contained literally hundreds of pornographic images taken of the lady of the house (who was, apparently, quite good looking for her age). Being young and impulsive, he snatched a few.

He made the mistake of showing them to his little brother (my mate), who in turn showed them to a friend of his. A few days later, it looked like some of the snatched photos were missing, and sure enough my mate got a call from the friend of his (they are no longer friends) saying “I’m blackmailing ****. Are you in?” For some bizarre reason, my mate agreed.

They sent a letter to the amatuer porn star telling her that if she did not cough up £1000, they would distribute the photographs to her collegues. The money was to be left in a phone box. Now, the important thing to note here is that my mate grew up in the middle of the country. There’s like 4 houses, and one old school public telephone. Literally nothing else. They waited behind a bush near the phone box, ready to collect the dropped off loot. They even had their bikes for a speedy getaway, the criminal masterminds. The drop was made, they collected the cash, and 6 police cars swooped in.

So after a very tearful interview, they were charged with extortion. At the age they were, it didn’t really mean anything as it would just be wiped when they hit 16 anyway (I think they were 12 when it happened. I seem to remember being in second year of high school when I heard).

The moral of the story is, I think, don’t give a nosy 15 year old a key to your house when you’ve pictures of your wife dildoing herself in a suitcase under your bed. Put that shit on a high shelf.

^Jesus…