Oh No I Won't

Another time, also late at night, I was minding my own business whilst leaving some sort of dance, social gala, or similar excuse for drinking when it occurred to me that I should liberate one of the Student Center gazebo chairs from its shackles of slavery. So, for reasons that are less clear to me now than they must have been then, I picked up the chair and began carrying it with me.

As I later explained to the Dean of Students, I wasn't attempting to "steal" the chair from the College. To "steal" implies to remove from the possession of the owner. The chair was no less in the possession of the College during my walk than it had been previously. In fact, since I lived on the grounds of the College, there was no question but that the chair would remain on the College premises. At worst, I could be criticized for malicious furniture rearrangement.

So back to that fateful night when I and 3 or 4 of my closest friends were walking across the campus, me with my newfound chair-friend on my back. We hadn't traveled far before the keen eyes of one of the campus student patrolmen noticed something unusual about my attire. I believe it was the chair on my back that gave me away.

"Hey, what are you doing with that chair on your back? Put that chair down and stop right where you are!" The safety patrolman demanded. He then began frantically describing his situation to a walkie-talkie.

"Tall male caucasion carrying chair has been apprehended .... Hey, come back here!"

By this time it had occurred to me that there was probably someone on the other end of the walkie-talkie radio-waves and that, while the guardian of the chairs apparently carried no fire-arm, the radio listener might. After carefully considering my options, I concluded that my best course of action involved running away.

Do you think my "friends" would run any sort of interference or at least create a distraction. No, they just laughed. I think one of even sat in my chair while they all watched the ensuing chase scene.

As I began jogging away, the safety patrolman engaged in hot foot pursuit. "You will stop right where you are!" He stated emphatically. I'm guessing he had received this tip during safety patrolman training. However, no reasonable person could have expected that statement to be true.

I confirmed the expectation of the reasonable person. "Oh no I won't." I correctly predicted.

I had about a 50 yard head start, and he didn't seem to be very fast, so I wasn't all that concerned about out-running him. However, he had that damned walkie-talkie, and, one could only assume, reinforcements. One's assumption was correct.

For a while, the chase was rather comical. My pursuer would announce my whereabouts and trajectory into his radio at which time I would change course. Another tip to be incorporated into safety patrol training: Do not assume that your target is deaf - he probably can hear what you are yelling into your walkie-talkie.

As we ran around and around the bushes and various buildings, I began to realize that what this predator lacked in speed and cunning, he made up for in stamina. I was getting tired. Plus, every time I headed down a street, I would see squad cars approaching. I could only assume that there was some major crime going on, and I didn't want to get tangled up in that mess.

Eventually, I jumped over a brick wall and hid in some bushes to catch my breath. I could hear police radios all around, so I figured that the other suspect must have been cornered in the same vecinity. Poor guy, it sounded like he was surrounded. Suddenly, a blast of light shined over the wall into my bush and a voice stated, "Get up."

"Me?" I wondered aloud.

Apparently catching one's breath whilst lying in the bushes in the middle of the night is some sort of criminal matter, so I was cuffed and stuffed and taken down to the station. I don't recall being breathalyzed, but somehow the officers concluded that I had been drinking - alcohol - in large amounts.

They removed my cuffs and put me into some type of a holding area which was - note to self - not locked. Having already experienced my fondness for late-night jogs, I'm not sure what they expected to happened next. My expectation was that I would release myself into my own custody, and, again, my prediction was correct.

I returned to my room, explained to my room-mate that he had not seen me, and passed out. Later, he told me, some officers arrived to inquire as to my whereabouts and to confirm my identity. He displayed my comatosed body and they elected to let sleeping dog lie.

And so, the Dean put me on some sort of probation, the terms of which were, as I understood them, if I didn't get caught driving the skid-steer in the basement of the gym reconstruction project, then I could still attend law school.