Let's see...I have a degree from Ole Miss. When I was 16 I drank my way from the piney woods of North LA down to NOLA. When I was drunk in NOLA I turned the wrong way down a one way street and met some of NOLA's finest. I lived to tell about it. This thread has triggered some pretty amazing flashbacks. :cool:

Definitely in to see where this is going. Hotty Toddy. -J

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Pins and needles here waiting for the next installment.....

Sooooo....

We're all standing around and the Officer sez "Why didn't you pull over?"

"I didn't realize you were signalling me," say I.

"You do realize you were going the wrong way on a one way street."

Me: "Huh?"

"Back on Conti ....when you came out of the parking lot.."

Me: "Ohhhhh,,,sorry I didn't realize that. I was trying to get on Rampart. I'm just moving my car to an apartment one block up. I've loaded my friends luggage to drive her there...wanted to make sure she got there safe."

He looks in the car seeing the luggage and his partner is talking to her on the passenger side. She confirms my story, gets out of the car and comes around to join us. Officer questions her a bit more. She says she was afraid to be in this part of the Quarter alone and I was being a protective gentleman.

Officer asks what we're doing here, yadadadada. "Came down for the Saint's game, etc." He picked up the pistol and says, "What's this?" Before I could reply heiress says, "Its my gun sir. I didn't want to leave it in my car in the parking lot. I have a CCW permit." And pulls it out of her purse. Not wanting to be outdone I say "I also have a CCW, sir."

At this point I pull out my wallet and for good measure give him my CCW, Drivers license, insurance card, and Bar card" and innocently volunteer "I'm a lawyer from Jax, Mississippi.

"You been drinking, sir?"

"Is that a trick question? This is the French Quarter, isn't it?" He didn't seem to get my attempt at humor.

We start the somg and dance. I explain that we're just a block away from our destination, we're calling it a night, yadadadada. Then he wants to have me do field sobriety. I hedge. Then I volunteer I've been a prosecutor but don't stop there. I can still see the words coming from my mouth like halitosis fumes: "...And I'm now a criminal defense lawyer." OOOPS..,.

The mood noticeably changed. "Well sir, you know your rights then. I'm gonna let this little lady move your car back to the parking lot provided she leaves it there. I'm gonna give her her pistol and suggest she put in her bags and goes to this appartment she is staying at. But you, SIR, have the right to remain silent.... Turn aound and place your hands behind your back."

Next thing I know after a bumpy ride on NOLA backsteets I arrive at a DUI outpost consisting of what appears to be a maze of FEMA trailers piecemealed together. And there I am to meet the king of DUI arrests for Orleans Parish.

Gotta run for now to make a living.

Wow, Jim! Very well written story. Is there a moral lesson somewhere in there?

I admit to laughing while reading some passages. I apologize for that.

Nope. No morals. LOL Just a passion play.:eek:

If you decide to write this into a novel, the women on this forum will insist on having autographed copies. And if it gets made into a movie, we all (all y'all as y'all say) have to go see it. :)

_

subscribed-

From pre-Katrina party days there, learned quickly to steer clear of the posse's (not poosy) in the 1/4.

" like halitosis fumes" haha! Should have reached out and stuffed them back in your mouth and claimed you did not just say that.

I wanna be cast as one of the party goers when the book is made into a movie.

I think Dueller needs to back up just a little. Skipping some details such as; did you or your lovey have any lactate shots? For real! LOL Drive thru's.... crazy to think at one time that was the norm.

And then the guns. I recall talking to an antique store owner. He mentioned that often would search the streets as the sun was rising and find all sorts of little lost treasures. Occasionally a pistol! One hootin' town.

Both the arresting officer and his backup in a second car made up the procession to the DUI test facility. I guess they were worried about an escape attempt because as we arrived a few more squad car pulled in. "Must be a busy night." I thought. But none of the other cars had perps...seems that word was out that they had a live one in the form of a high falutin' Mississippi defense lawyer. They came for the show, I suppose.

As is the case in many departments they have a few specially trained officers to do the actual testing. This was no exception. I was led inside where they removed the cuffs and had me sit down in a chair obviously in view of a surveillance camera. About 6 officers other than the initial aresting officer baegan milling about and scouting the place for chairs, My AO went to a small desk and began to write...profusely.

Some 15 minutes pass and I hear the jack boots coming down the hall. He wasn't very tall but was thick and obviously fit. High and white haircut. The brow was thick enough to make me wonderr about his use of steroids. He began the set up on the Intoxilizer machine. While it was warming up we had a lengthy discussion about gas chromotography technology, the attributes of the Intoxilizer 5000 vs 8000, strengths and weaknesses of the two, retrogade extrapolation. This guy knew his stuff. And was a bit gruff. Seems they had to call him and get him out of bed. Then out of the blue he barks "Enough of the bull****tin' talk...you ain't getting out of this...you gonna blow or not?" I refused. He looked around the room and said..."Who wants to take him down to lockup?"

Pretty uneventful really. My officer is still writing away. Then the DUI officer sits dow next to AO and begins to write, too. This goes on for another 20 minutes while they confer in whispers. Hmmm...maybe they're trying to figure out a reason to let me go. Not a chance I am to discover.

What they were doing was exploring every possible charge they could press. Travelling wrong direction on one way street. Disregarding a traffic signal (Twice..first when I left Conti...second when I was on Rampart). Failure to yield. Open container. Reckless driving. Disorderly conduct. Failure to maintain control of a vehicle. Fleeing a Police officer. Open container. DUI Refusal. DUI. They tell me they're cutting me a break by not charging me with brandishing a weapon.

After they completed the 9 or so tickets, a young officer drove me to Orleans Parirsh Central Lockup facility for booking. Only comment he made was "They gonna love you at Central." It is now 3:00 a.m. Friday morrning. My head is pounding.

Before I get to the crux of this experience...my extended visit to lockup....I must credit the city fathers of NOLA for trying to make the city an enjoyable place for tourists. You see, there is an unwriiten practice in the Big Easy before major events. For a day or two before a big event such as the Saints game the police go on alert and begin arresting the craziest of crazies, usually for loitering or any minor charge they find. These folks are hauled into Central Lockup. Hardly any of them can make bail which is usually not set until Monday morning following the event. More often than not the charges will be dismissed and they will be let go on Monday. Net affect is that the chronic drunks, homeless mentally ill, panhandling crack addicts, transvestite hookers...the dregs of NOLA humanity are contained in Central lockup. And not around the events to bother visitors. There are still colorful characters to entertain, but not the worst of the worst.

This abyss is where I'm heading. For who knows how long. But, hey...I'm resouceful. I'll have me a bail bondsman within the hour, be out in two...just in time to get back to the apartment for a shower...maybe the heiress will wanna go get breakfast.

It was not to be..

Now I'm really wishing we'd had time for more brews and a full telling of this story when I was there in June...

I'm getting the impression that the rat bastards aren't gonna give you a luxurious stinky concrete cell to yourself with a crappy mattress to get no sleep on...

_

When I got popped, I told them as soon as we got to central booking that I was refusing. They uncuffed me, offered a cup of coffee, told me they had some paperwork to do and then drove me home, told me to go get my car the next day.

Jim, you really know how to build up suspense with your readers. You should make a living out of this. Can´t wait for the next chapter!

I went down to the local jail at 3:00 AM to bring a friend his checkbook so he could make bail. He was arrested for DUI. He was polite to the officer, and only got stopped because he was out late at night and the cop said he rolled a stop sign.

Just the few minutes I was there to hand a cop a checkbook to take to my friend was enough to keep me from wanting to ever see the inside of that place. And I am only guessing our jail is Disneyland compared to NOLA jail on a game day weekend.

I am enjoying living vicariously through your story. :cool:

I like my boring life.

We have a neighbor who is a lawyer. He rolls through stop signs, gets a ticket for speeding but never pays a thing. He always finds a way out. Sounds like somebody on this forum.....:):)

This all sounds so familiar to me...

Too many nights between my normal Uptown haunts like F&M Patio Bar and Fat Harry's followed by the obligatory trip to Port of Call and then the occasional drive on the levee along River Road made me lucky to not have experienced this at least once.

Too bad Melius Bar is long gone---it was right down the street from CLU as I recall.

"...chronic drunks, homeless mentally ill, panhandling crack addicts, transvestite hookers...the dregs of NOLA humanity..."

Oh yeah, this is gonna be good.

Is this a situation were one is typically advised not to bend over for the soup and to sleep on ones back wearing a goal keepers helmet??

Is where you got the fluffing experience? ;)