Nothing better to do than run…

I’ve been a delinquent since I was two.  My cousin had stolen my toy, and I went to tell my mom.  She told me that if I didn’t go get my toy back myself, she’d whoop my ass.  So, I went and got my toy back, and my cousin has been scared of me even since.

One night, I ran from the cops because I had nothing better to do.  I had committed no crimes—I was just running—which moronically enough is a crime.  I stood around and watched the cops until they noticed me.  It’s funny to see a cop take off running to chase you and see what you did.  If you didn’t really do anything, he’ll ask you why you ran.  My usual response to that was, “Fuck you.”

            And they’re usually like, “You would just do that?”

            “Well, yeah.  I just did.”

            They always got mad at me for it.  I got arrested a few times, but alls they did was take me home to my mom.  Fucking cops would call my mom.  It usually went like this:

The cops asked my mom, “Anita, do you know what your son was doing?”

            Her response was, “Yes.  He’s in trouble, don’t you worry.”

            It wasn’t like this had been the first time the cops called my mom on me.  Anita come get your son.

You could hear her on the other line, God dammit. They were usually lenient on me because of my mom. Everyone knew my mom; she cut everyone’s hair, including all of the cops’.

            But yeah, one day I met the Dobermans, I hopped a fence and didn’t realize that it was Midnight’s yard cause I had no idea where the dude lived, right?  I had only met him a couple of weeks prior, through a friend of mine’s cousin.  And I landed there face to face with these dogs and was like, Aw shit.

“Hi, puppy-dog. I don’t suppose you like toys?”  I seen a toy, grabbed it, and threw it.  One of the dogs was like, Actually, yeah I kinda do like toys, and took off after it.  No shit.  The other dogs kind of looked at the other you know like: You’re not worried that this dude just jumped into the yard?  And she was more worried about playing, so you know, I threw it a couple of times just in the back yard, and I ended up playing with the dogs. 


I forgot that I was in somebody else’s back yard. And Midnight came, opening up the door.  He’s this great big black guy, who drove this great big Escalade.  If anyone ever asked, he remodeled houses.  You put two and two together.  Seeing someone in his backyard, he said, “Who the hell?  What the fuck?”

I’m like, “Hey dude.  Hey, this is your house?”

“What the hell are you doing in my back yard?” He asked.

“Oh, I was running from the cops,” I shrugged.


“Yeah, I was just fucking with them dude,” I said.

“And you brought them to my house?”

“Well, they didn’t know I came here.  They had no idea where I went.  I just jumped the fence and landed in here with your dogs.”

 “They didn’t attack you?” He said with the three of them all sitting around his feet.

“Nope, they’re cool.  Hey—” and I went walking the house.  It was funny; his wife was there.

She said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I dunno, just running from the cops.  Yup, just jumped over the fence, had no idea you lived here.”

“Are they coming back?”  She asked softly.

“Nah, they’ve been gone for a minute; I’ve been playing in the backyard with the dogs for like fifteen minutes.”

Yeah, just nothing better to do than run from the cops.  There isn’t much to do in Enid, Oklahoma, so I ran from the cops a lot.


About alishacostanzo

Wife of a disabled veteran, Alisha Costanzo writes about PTSD, gender norms, environmentalism, violence, and conformity. With a mutually-fueled passion to change the world one person at a time, she often writes about her husband’s rants, conspiracy theories, and trains of logic that seem absurd until the connections line up, and mixes them into her obsession with cooking, coffee, and pop-culture monsters.

Posted on July 25, 2012, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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