Old Women

I'd had a few beers too many at the summer festival, and was in dire need of facilities so I could make room for more beer. Or so I thought. The lines for the port-o-cans stretched endlessly, and quite frankly I wasn't sure I could wait that long just to stand in a foul smelling plastic cubicle. I wandered off the main boulevard of the street fair and down a narrow alley. Finding an overflowing dumpster at the dead-end, I was satisfied I was far enough from the crowd to old women take care of my business without offending anyone.

As I finished and gave a little shake, I heard the crunch of gravel on the pavement behind me. Before I could get everything packed away where it belonged, a hand grabbed my left shoulder and spun me around, bringing me face to forehead with one of the city's finest. The blue uniform and the glint of the silver badge captured my attention. Mumbling incoherently, I fumbled to stuff my stuff back into my jeans. "You're under arrest," she barked, snapping a steel bracelet around my wrist. "Public indecency, public intoxication, lewd and lascivious behavior." And as I attempted to protest she added, "And resisting arrest." She old women spun me around and locked my wrists behind my back, my unit still dangling from my fly.

"Old Women": next page & BONUS PICS