Assholes Finish First (24 page)

Tucker “I TOLD YOU HE WAS BLUFFING!!!”

Still jacked up from andrenaline after smoking the red 280Z, I was high fiving Soylent and not paying attention to the road. When you have an on-ramp coming up fast, this can cause a problem.

Credit “Max, watch out, you need to get on the Cross Bronx.”

Tucker “I DON’T WANT TO GO TO THE BRONX!”

Credit “No, you idiot, the Cross Bronx Expressway takes you to New Jersey.”

Tucker “That doesn’t make sense!”

Credit “Just get on the ramp!”

Tucker “Which ramp??”

Credit “Left, the left one!”

Tucker “WHICH WAY’S LEFT?!?!?!”

I really said that. I was that drunk.

And of course, I went right, and of course, that was not only the wrong way, it dumped us right back into Harlem, where we immediately got lost. This was 2003, before everyone had a GPS in their phone. No one had ANY fucking idea where we were or what to do.

And at that exact moment, the moment we realized we had no idea where we were, the Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up next to us, and a very, very pissed-off black woman started going ballistic at us. Instinctively, I gunned the RV and took off… and that was when the hour-long car chase through Harlem began.

I am not kidding or exaggerating one bit. A Jeep Cherokee, driven by an angry black woman and with an equally pissed-off black guy in the passenger seat, spent the next hour chasing a 40ft RV with 8 white guys in it, all across Harlem. And I mean ALL OVER Harlem. I think the highest we got was 210th or so, and the lowest we got was 120th. And no matter what we did, we could NOT shake this woman. I ran a red light, she ran a red light. I swerved all over the roads and drove across grassy medians, she followed me. This bitch was on me like cheese on macaroni.

I think it was somewhere around 125th and Malcolm X, I turned the RV down a side street, and she made her move. The street was wide enough for her to speed past me, and once she did that, she pulled her SUV sideways across the road, blocking us in, and came bolting out of her car, doing the angry-black-woman dance.

AngryBlackWoman “YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! I GOT YOU NOW, BITCHES! GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE, IMMA FUCK YOU UP!”

She started banging on the RV, screaming curses at us. The guy with her pulled her away from the RV, and I actually had to pause and laugh for a minute, it was that ridiculous.

Credit “Tucker, I’ve seen you make some women really mad, but I think this tops them all.”

Soylent “You gotta admire her determination. I think I would’ve let it go at this point.”

By then, I’d stopped drinking, and though I was FAR from sober, I was clearheaded enough to start thinking about what the consequences would be if the cops came. I didn’t really pay attention in law school, but after a quick recount of our actions over the past few hours, I came to the only logical conclusion: We needed to get the fuck out of there, STAT.

I clearly couldn’t go forward. There were some cars behind us, but it was a two-lane street, so if I could just get turned around, I could go the other way. There was a driveway to the left, giving me some room to maneuver.

Tucker “TheGinger, go to the back window of the RV and call out my space, I’m going to turn this thing around.”

TheGinger “Yes! Brilliant!” [
scurries to the back window
]

I pulled into the driveway, threw it in reverse, and started going back.

TheGinger “OK, OK, getting close, close… STOP!!”

I heard the faint sound of metal crunching. Shit. I put it back in drive, went forward as far as I could, cranked the wheel, then went back in reverse.

TheGinger “You’re really close… STOP!!!! TUCKER, STOP!!!”

Crunch again. Big one. TheGinger frantically sprinted to the front of the RV.

TheGinger “Tucker, you hit like four parked cars!!”

Tucker “Why didn’t you tell me I was close?!?”

TheGinger “I DID!”

Tucker “Well, there’s not enough room to get turned around. Sippy, get out and ask them to back their cars out, we can just reverse it back down the street.”

Sippy [
in the most petrified voice I’ve ever heard out of a grown man
] “WHAT!?! HAVE YOU SEEN THAT WOMAN? I’M NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS RV!”

Soylent sighed, got out of the RV, and walked back to the cars. He politely asked the drivers to reverse down the street and let us out, because there was an obstruction in front of the RV. AngryBlackWoman, who was sitting in her SUV talking on her cell phone, saw him and came running down the street screaming:

AngryBlackWoman “OH, HELL NO, MOTHERFUCKER! I DONE CALLED THE COPS!! YOU AIN’T GOIN’ NOWHERE!!”

She told the drivers the whole story. Soylent stood there for a second, saw the inevitable conclusion, and calmly walked back to the RV.

Soylent “They’re not moving. We’re stuck until the cops come. Someone get me a beer.”

At that moment Rockwolf said, “I’m outta here,” and for the second time that day, flung himself out the RV window and ran off. I’m totally serious. The dude sprinted past AngryBlackWoman and all the people starting to mill around, down the street, and off into the night. He did it so fast I almost didn’t believe it.

I stepped out from behind the wheel and surveyed the RV. TheGinger’s anxiety was back; he was sitting on the bed on the back, trembling. Credit was shaking his head in dismay. PigPen was staring straight ahead in his seat, like he just witnessed a murder. Nils was passed out and snoring.
Sippy was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands… crying. Tears. Out of his eyes.

Tucker “Why are you crying?”

Sippy “BECAUSE WE’RE FUCKED!”

Tucker “It’s not a big deal, dude. We’ll figure it out.”

Sippy “Tucker, we were driving an RV around Harlem, throwing beer bottles at people and crashing into cars! We’re totally fucked!”

Tucker “Stop being melodramatic. We’re fine.”

Sippy “What are we going to do Tucker?!? Sit in a pool of diamonds and pearls, sipping champagne out of the skulls of our enemies?!?”

Tucker “Shut up you pussy. Go lie on the bed and cry yourself to sleep. Let me think. I’ll get us out of it, I always do. I’m a legend for a reason.”

I took my fleece off and started drinking water and began thinking about how to handle this once the cops arrived. AngryBlackWoman came over to the RV and banged on the windows.

AngryBlackWoman “YOU CAINT JUST TAKE YO JACKET OFF, I KNOW YOU, MOTHAFUCKA! DAT WATER AIN’T GONNA HELP, YOU GOIN TA JAIL!!”

I thought of pulling the curtains to give us privacy—but couldn’t, because there were no curtains left in the RV. Nils, who was STILL snoring through this whole ordeal, had thrown them out hours ago.

Tucker “OK, gentlemen, here’s the deal. The cops are coming, and we’re almost certainly going to be arrested, so just prepare yourself for that.”

Sippy “ARRESTED?!”

Tucker “It’s not a big deal. If we’re smart, we should be able to get out of this without any charges. We just have to come up with a coherent story and stick to it. The only two issues the cops will care about are the damage done to the various cars, and if the driver of the RV was drunk. The car damage is covered under the insurance policy that we took out with the RV. I told you walk-away insurance was the way to go, didn’t I?”

TheGinger “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CAUSED THE DAMAGE!”

Tucker “Don’t be so negative. It was smart to get the insurance, I did it, everything’ll be fine. The cops could pursue some sort of assault charge, but they won’t do that if we aren’t dicks. There is no issue with everyone being drunk, the law is clear on that. The back section of an RV is not considered a car for the purposes of open container laws. The only problem is if the driver is drinking. And I was. A lot. Are any of you sober? Because I’m not. If you are, it’d be nice if you claimed you were driving. Come on, Credit, you’ve only had like three beers. You’ll beat this.”

Credit “No chance, Max. Unlike you, I have a job, and I’d like to keep it.”

Tucker “Great. Anyone have any ideas how I can sober up real real fast?”

PigPen “I heard sucking on pennies works. Something about the copper.”

Tucker “Anyone have any
good
ideas?”

Soylent “Dude… Rockwolf was driving.”

Tucker “GODDAMN RIGHT HE WAS! And that motherfucker threw all that shit out the window too! He did everything illegal that happened! What an asshole!! That’s the last piece of the story. For everything else, just tell the truth, and we’re fine. So just relax and chill, I’m going to do push-ups and mountain-climbers in the back and try to sweat out some of this alcohol before the cops get here.”

TheGinger frantically tried to clean the RV for some reason, but it still looked like shit when the first cop showed up 15 minutes later. There were probably 25–30 people milling around the RV by the time he knocked on the door. He had a short, military-style haircut and was visibly pissed off.

MilitaryCop “If any of you motherfuckers get out of this RV, I’m going to beat the holy living shit out of you. There is a mob out there, so STAY IN HERE until backup comes.”

Two more cops got there right after him. One cop was a pissed-off Haitian and the other was a fat white guy who looked like Chris Farley. The Haitian and the military-looking cop dealt with the crowd, and the fat cop opened the door to the RV, took one step inside, and choked on the smell.

FatCop “Holy shit,” [
cough, cough
] “You guys been drinking a little, huh? So, tell me what’s going on here.”

What did Tucker Max do? Talk shit to the cops? Tell them to get the fuck out of my face? Ride them ruthlessly? Challenge them to a drinking contest?

If you think I did ANYTHING like that, you’re an idiot who has never dealt with a cop. I acted like a BITCH. Cooperated fully and couldn’t have kissed this guy’s ass any more if he was sitting on my face.

Here’s the thing: Some cops are dicks, but the vast majority aren’t. Most cops became cops because they wanted to help people and catch real criminals. Assuming you haven’t committed a serious crime, if you are very, very accommodating and helpful to them, you’re going to be fine 99% of the time. You just have to remember, at the scene, they are God. They can arrest you for ANYTHING they want, they can jack you around, they can ruin your entire day. Granted, if they are just jacking you around, then in the long run nothing is going to stick, and you’ll get released… but only after hours or days spent in a holding cell. If you fuck with a cop, he WILL fuck you up, so even if you’re guilty, in the short term your best play is usually to cooperate as much as possible. (FYI: If you are black, ignore everything I just wrote. You’re fucked no matter what you do.)

Using this strategy, I explained the whole situation to the cop, telling the truth about everything, except inserting Rockwolf as the culprit for all the drunk driving and most of the littering.

FatCop “I’m confused. How do you guys all know each other again?”

How, in 2003, do you explain to an NYPD cop what a message board is? We just gave him the basic details, but he got confused and focused on getting us out of there.

FatCop “OK, you have insurance, that’s good, we’ll give that info to the victims. Are any of you sober? Can any of you drive?”

We all kind of looked around at each other. I raised my eyes at Credit, and he shook his head vigorously.

Tucker “Sippy, how about you?”

Sippy “No way! I’m wasted!”

FatCop [
to Sippy
] “Why do you have a sippy cup tied around your neck?”

Soylent “Because he’s the Prince of Cleveland.”

FatCop “What?”

A bunch of new cops got to the scene, and a plainclothes Hispanic guy, who acted like he owned the place, stepped into the RV, reeled from the smell, took one look at us, and called FatCop out into the street with him, while MilitaryCop came in and asked us the same questions FatCop did, and we gave the same answers. MilitaryCop saw Nils sleeping and kicked him.

MilitaryCop “Hey, wake the fuck up. This ain’t no goddamn naptime.”

Nils had been passed out for at least an hour, and he groggily woke up with no fucking clue what was going on. And he was pissed.

Nils “What the fuck? Leave me alone.”

He rolled over and went back to sleep.

You know what happens when you directly defy a cop’s order, especially a hard-ass ex-military cop? Nothing good.

MilitaryCop “Get the fuck up, NOW!”

Nils waved him away, infuriating MilitaryCop. I saw him about to explode, so I stepped in and shook Nils.

Tucker “Be cool man, these are cops.”

Nils angrily stared at me and half sat up. MilitaryCop was satisfied with this and started casually searching the RV. He opened the first cabinet and stopped, in shock.

MilitaryCop “Holy shit. Captain, come in here, you gotta see this.”

The Hispanic cop (he was the precinct captain) saw the multitude of bottles, his eyes went wide, and he ordered everyone outside and up against the RV. We could hear them inside, looking through everything:

MilitaryCop “My God, look at this fuckin’ bar. They have fucking Johnny Walker Blue in here. I can’t even
afford
this shit!”

FatCop “There’s a keg in the shower!!!”

Captain “A keg in the shower?”

FatCop “Holy shit. Look at this fucking contraption! It’s hooked up to the showerhead!”

MilitaryCop “And the fridge is full of beer too!”

Here we were, seven white guys, assuming the position up against the outside of an RV. There was a crowd of at least 100, kept away from us only by the 10 or so cops now on the scene. I was in the middle of the RV. Soylent was at the end, calm as a Hindu cow. Sippy was between me and him, shaking and crying, tears streaming down his face. I think he may have wet himself. TheGinger was on the other side of me, mumbling anxiously to himself. Credit was still shaking his head in dismay, PigPen was wide-eyed and terrified, and Nils was fuming at the end. I whispered down the line.

Tucker “Everyone, just be cool. Remember the story, stick to it, and we’ll be fine.”

Sippy sniffled through his tears. Soylent yawned and rolled his eyes at Sippy. Nils took a different strategy. He turned around and faced the cops: