It hit me when I was about halfway home, and it really hit. I had to GO. I was squirming around and trying to get home as fast as I possibly could without speeding, because there wasn't much crime in the area, and all the cops did that time of night was try to catch people just like me. I almost made it home. I turned from the highway onto the road I lived off of when I reached the breaking point. I only had about two miles left to go but it was either pull over now or soak my car. Reluctantly I pulled over.
Granted the side of the highway wasn't the best place to pull over but I had no choice. There was a large flat area of gravel, where guys would park and sell firewood in Winter. I pulled as far away from the road as I could, threw open the door and barely managed to unzip my fly in time. Blessed relief. I was pissing up a storm. It was actually making a lot of noise. You know how guys will write their name in the snow by peeing? I could've melted a snowman. It was a power-piss. I was really enjoying it too, until a cop pulled up.
Actually he didn't pull up. He nearly hit my car. He was trying to make a dramatic entrance I guess, so he sped up and came flying right toward me and slammed on the brakes. Of course his car went skidding across the gravel and it stopped six inches from my vehicle. I was actually hoping he'd hit it. The way things worked back then, if that had happened I'd never have been charged with anything. Not that I wasn't breaking the law, but they'd just not seek charges rather than go to court and likely have them dropped anyway. No such luck. His bumper stopped just short of my car.
He certainly had me at a disadvantage. There I was...situation in hand, and creating a "no-fly zone" that extended about six feet in front of my penis. After his rather bold entrance, I didn't want to turn my back on him, so I just stood there letting it rip. I couldn't have stopped mid-piss, and I was certainly in no position to try to flee or cause trouble, but the way he pulled up you'd have thought I was a wanted criminal. I couldn't believe what happened next.
He could no doubt assess the situation, and see that I wasn't going to be a threat for the time being. I expected him to wait by his patrol car until I finished peeing or at least give a wide berth and walk around to me from the side, but he walked straight up to me, looking at my dick, and stopped at the end of my piss-stream. I kid you not- pee was splashing up his trousers all the way to his knees. I was a little freaked-out. He was literally letting himself be peed on. I've known several counselors who council certain types, and they tell me that some of them are into some weird shit, and that crossed my mind. It certainly wasn't normal. I got the impression he was enjoying it. It was fucked-up. What he said next made the situation even more amazing.
I remember the conversation word-for-word. He goes "Look at you boy...ya' pissin' on my shoes!" I replied "Well, officer...it looks to me like you're standing where where I've been pissin'." I didn't say it disrespectfully- I knew I was in trouble anyway, and I was truly amazed and perplexed at his behavior. He said "Boy, you goin' ta JAIL!" "I kinda figured that, officer." He said he was going to throw the book at me and charge me with this, that and the other.
Back then if you'd been drinking enough to be over the limit but weren't in the act of driving, you wouldn't be charged with DUI (DWI back then), but they'd usually get you on public intox charges. I'm sure he could smell beer on my breath but I was never breathalyzed. He put me into the car as he was telling me all the shit I'd done wrong. He said something about "public lewdness" and I didn't like the sound of that. I protested, and he said something about "flopping my dick out on a public right-of-way." I said "But sir, I can't pee without taking my dick out." That didn't seem to win any points, and off I went to the pokey.
Fast-forward to the court date. My attorney was a well-known, well-liked and well-heeled lawyer named Arthur Parker, aka "Lawya Parka." The Parkers were family friends we knew from church. His son and I were best buds and we both got the exact same drum kits for Christmas one year and started learning to play real drums the same day. Arthur was a character to say the least. Back then (as now, perhaps) your attorney was just as likely as not to show up for a case drunker than you'd been when you were arrested, but that's how it went. Arthur had had a few at lunch and he showed up in an extremely jovial mood.
He was a little too jovial in fact for my liking. He came into the courtroom red-eyed and smiling. He was cutting up with the judge like they were out on the golf course or something. He was saying some funny shit but I wasn't laughing. I was trying to be all serious, since I was facing several charges that I was trying to have dropped. I actually elbowed him a couple of times. I mean, I'd rather have a happy lawyer than an asshole one, but that was one of the few times in my life that I wasn't up for any mirth, and he was testing my limits.
Finally it was time for my case. I tried to get even more serious, while my attorney was turning into a regular comedian. The cop walked in and stood before the bench. He looked over at me and gave a little nod. I didn't return it. I forgot to mention he was short...really short. He may have stood 5-5 in cop heels but he was a little dude. We decided that "short-person syndrome" was no doubt at work and that probably accounted for his attempt to be a badass, although it didn't explain his allowing himself to be peed on. Arthur started in on him immediately. Here I was about to have my name called out in front of God and everybody, and hopefully not be charged with having my dick out in public, and my attorney was turning into a clown. I was shushing him but he ignored me. He was on a roll. It was like being at the Comedy Club for free, only it was real life and I couldn't laugh. It was tough not to lose it. Lawya Parka was hilarious.
This is one of our family of Pekingese. Her name was Kwan Yin and we called her Kwannie. There was a strong resemblance between her and the cop. I almost howled, and I mean nearly busted out laughing, as I looked at the cop's face and pictured it morphing into a Pekingese. I can only imagine what would've happened if I'd started laughing in the middle of my case. I was going "Dammit man...be quiet!" but he wouldn't hear it.
"Look at his shoes" he said. "Look how shiny they are. YOU did that!" I was trying to keep my shit together and not die laughing. I remember thinking that it was like watching some absurd comedy show on TV that's the funniest thing you've ever seen in your life, only you can't laugh. It was torture. Death by comedy...I bet it's happened. I could picture the judge saying "Mr. Simpson, you've been charged with public lewdness. How do you plead?" and me answering "BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAA-HAAA." Oops, hate it when that happens. Again the irony of having to be utterly serious in the face of so much great comedy wasn't lost on me. It was rough but I somehow managed to keep my poker face on.
In the end it turned out as well as could be expected. I did take the rap for public intox, but when the judge heard the story he dropped the lewdness charge and whatever the other one was. I guess he knew what it was like to really have to pee. The part about the cop willingly getting piss-splashed wasn't entered into public record. Sheesh, what a weirdo. As soon as I hit the steps in front of the courthouse I almost fell over laughing. It was like being underwater too long and you're almost out of breath but then you finally hit the surface and you can breathe again. We were in the middle of the courthouse steps hugging each other and howling with laughter. A few onlookers started laughing just because we were. I thanked him and told him that I hoped to never see him in court again as long as I lived.
We hopped into his Caddie or Lincoln Mark II or whatever it was and grabbed his son Ron and went out to celebrate. I told Ron about the tiny cop with the shiny shoes and a piss fetish, and how his dad tried to have me thrown in the slammer by making fun of the arresting officer during the trial. He just grinned, like "That's my dad." We brought up the story several times over the years and it still cracks me up. It's almost worth having the charge on my record just to be able to tell the story. As far as funny shit goes that was epic. Sometimes I wonder what became of Officer Pekingese. Too much.
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