We set off a firecracker in the man’s room of Murphy’s Mart, for instance, and were man-handed by security. Murphy’s was a giant discount store, similar to K-Mart. We used to run wild through the place, and should’ve been banned for life. But somehow they allowed the endless shenanigans to continue.
On this particular day we went into the bathroom, with pockets full of firecrackers. I don’t think it was pre-planned, it was just a logical procession of events. One of us put a firecracker on the sink, with the fuse hanging over the edge, and the other one lit it. Then we power-walked toward the store exit, giggling in anticipation.
Yeah, we didn’t get far… That thing went off and it sounded like the entire front of the building exploded. I mean it was LOUD: impossibly loud. I knew we’d gone overboard with this one, but kept walking, hoping for the best. Holy shit!
I think we were trying to play it cool, and blend in with the shoppers. That’s why we didn’t run. But it didn’t work. Two security guards were immediately upon us, and they weren’t happy. They were actually shoving us around, and getting a little physical. We were about 14 at the time, and those guys REALLY wanted to kick our asses.
They herded us into an office, deep in the bowels of the operation. It was a part of the building I’d never seen before, which was kind of cool. Some woman said, “Are these the two that did it?” and shook her head in disapproval. She told us, in a scolding tone, that an old man had been in one of the stalls, and we nearly gave him a heart attack. Heh.
The guards made us sit in chairs, and wanted to know our names, and our parents’ phone numbers.
And Mike told them his name was Zippo Hartley. Where that came from, I do not know. I nearly swallowed my tongue. When one of them confirmed it by saying, “Zippo??” I was barely holding it together. But, of course, that ploy couldn’t be maintained, and our folks were informed.
The thing, though? They weren’t mad. Neither of us got into serious trouble because of it. I remember everyone laughing about the old man, and how we’d probably cured his constipation. Whew!
Oh, there are tons of stories involving Mike… Maybe I should do a standalone update?
One more quickie: There was a laundromat in our little town, that was a million degrees inside during the summer. So, they always had the front and back doors propped open. And about once a month Mike and I would ride our bikes all the way through the place. We’d enter through the front, slalom between the washers and folding tables, and exit through the back.
And the morbidly obese woman who worked there would completely lose her mind, which is why we did it. She’d screech and holler, and wave a broom at us. It never stopped being hilarious.
Mike was a really good baseball player, and pitched a no-hitter in college. He lives near Charlotte now, and whenever we get together, it all just starts up again… I have a lot of history with my particular Mike. But what about yours?
Please tell us your Mike stories in the comments.
And I’ll see you guys again next time.