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handcuffsThere are days that I feel my age.  Days when I have to do so many grown up tasks that I look around and just sigh in defeat.  There was a time when the worst thing I worried about was how to drink alcohol without getting busted.  I have never been a really good criminal, I don’t have the nerves for it, but there was a time that I could have.  These days as a full-time mom, a full-time employee, a full-time maid, etc. etc. I just don’t have it in me to be a criminal.  I am too busy.

But this weekend that almost changed, and it left me wondering how is it that I am an old fuddy duddy, but others of my age can get away with being sixteen again.

It was St. Patrick’s Day, as I assume most of you know and wore your green with pride. In my town, St. Patrick’s Day is celebrate at a level rarely seen except for Brazil’s Carnival and New Orleans’ Mardi Gras.  It is that big and that much alcohol.  I mean seeing all of these people who obviously came just for the weekend, drinking, screaming and peeing (yep, peeing) everywhere will give you a whole new definition of the word debauchery.  I really don’t mind it, because I am a people watcher, and truth be told the lines for the alcohol are so long, it is virtually impossible for someone like me to drink too much.

Because it is a huge celebration in my hometown, there are of course, thousands (and I mean thousands) of cops.  Cops on horses, cops on bikes, cops on foot…you get the picture.  Because of all the cops, and all the arrests, you simply don’t do stupid things that will land you in jail.  And you certainly don’t do those things on Sunday, after these guys have been on patrol for three days and are sick and tired of said debauchery.

So there I was with my girlfriend. A mother of a newborn, she is going to nursing school and working part-time at a pizza place.  I went to middle school with her, a really long time ago.  And despite the fact I moved, and didn’t keep in touch, she found me when she moved to my town and decided that we could pick up where we left off.  The problem is I am not a middle school person anymore trying to fit in with the popular crowd, which she was a part of.  But I try to remain friends with her, because she doesn’t have many in this new town.

We had gone to church, where ironically, part of the sermon was about the history of the Patrick in St. Patrick’s Day.  I enjoyed the sermon, and I love the church I attend.  Very different from most churches in that I normally sit very close to a transvestite and a couple of gay/lesbians.  I like that this church welcomes everyone, and I have to tell you the arts – including the music – is worth the price of admission.  I don’t know why one goes with another, but there you have it.

So we left church, my friend and I, and went for lunch.  I followed her to lunch and noticed her back light was out.  This was fine, I told her and didn’t think about it again.  At lunch I held that little baby of hers, and all was right in my world.  Then, I kept going.  I should have stopped there, but no, I decided that spending more time with my friend was the right thing to do. (There is a story there that is too long to mention here).

So after lunch, I agreed to do a little shopping with my friend.  First, when I go shopping I like enter the store and then immediately separate from whoever I am with.  I don’t like people asking me what I am looking for, or helping me.  Both of which she did.  But hold on, before we went the store, we decided that we would ride in  one car…hers.  Once in the car she proceeded to tell me that she had pot in her car.  This didn’t alarm me, except that I remembered that one, it was St. Patrick’s Day and their were cops everywhere, and two, she didn’t have a tail light.

I tried to go with the flow for all of three seconds, before I pretty much demanded that she get rid of the pot.  I like pot. Like everyone else who has tried it, I have found the benefits far outweigh the negatives.  However, that doesn’t mean that I smoke pot in a car on Sunday, nor does it mean that I laugh in the face of the law and say ‘come and get me’.  She got rid of it, thankfully.

And what do you think happened almost immediately after?  We were pulled over.  And it went down hill from there.  I don’t know if she had more drugs on her and that’s why she acted like an idiot with the cops, or if she just normally couldn’t handle a cop.  But she literally acted like a moron and I was so embarrassed, and so freaked out that she was going to get me arrested, I swore that if that happened I was never speaking to her again.

Everything ended up okay; or at least we walked away from the situation.  Just so you know she wasn’t pulled over for the tail light, she was pulled over because she hadn’t registered her licence plate and it still said September 2012.  My God, and she is my age?

There are times that I can excuse crazy behavior just like everyone else…we get too busy, we are low on funds.  But there comes a time when you have to admit that you are not a teenager anymore.  While I have no desire to be a teenager anymore, I certainly wouldn’t mind getting rid of bills I have to pay each month.  However, that is a pipe dream.  I am now a mother of two, a dedicated employee, and a bill payer.  I don’t have the luxury of f-ing around with cops because I was dumb enough to have pot in my car on the busiest police weekend in the year.

It sometimes simply frustrates me how there are those with the same responsibilities as I have that can’t, physically and mentally can’t, act like the adult they are.  If you want to smoke pot, not a big deal, just don’t threaten me by having it where I don’t know it to be.  Don’t carry it so that I am in as much danger sitting beside you and you are having it in the first place.  It makes me angry that this woman thought that my getting arrested either wasn’t going to happen or wasn’t a big deal.  And how do I walk away from a person that once upon a time meant so much to me?

I don’t know if I am making a bigger deal out of this than need be.  The easiest solution is never to ride with her again.  The easiest solution is to make sure that I am taking care only of myself.  The easiest thing to do is be an adult, even when she can’t.  Sometimes growing up sucks.