Junior Brown, No-Contact Orders, Gun Raffles, and 911 Calls...must be Monday!

Happy Monday everyone!  And happy birthday, Oklahoma!

Cousin Fred and I made it back from Vegas, baby! in plenty of time for the Junior Brown show on Saturday night. Cousin Fred claims to be a huge fan, so huge in fact that he has standing no-contact orders in three states (Oklahoma included) preventing him from coming within 1,000 feet of the entertainer.

Since the Wife volunteered to help with the Silent Auction in the other room, that left her ticket available for the show. I offered it to Cousin Fred who leaped at the chance.  I had concerns about him getting himself into a jam with the performer or the police for violating the terms of the no-contact order, but he said not to worry – he had a plan.
His plan, not surprisingly, was a clever(?) disguise wherein he wore an old leather motorcycle club vest from his days as a member of the wannabe outlaw biker gang “Sons of Panicky”.

I say they were a wannabe gang…none of the membership actually owned a motorcycle. They were all former members of a high-anxiety support group, whose leader suggested that they form a group that would, as a pack, bolster their confidence in their abilities. It didn’t last long…

But I digress. So, Cousin Fred was wearing his leather vest over a hoody. Atop his head he had a leather cavalry-style hat that was likely only held together by the molecules of dried sweat that permeated the leather. He pulled the brim down low over his face, which created problems as he tried to walk back up the aisle after the show. He didn’t want to tilt his head back to see where he was going and kept stepping on people’s heels.

Then there was the fake, but no less huge-ish Lemmy Kilmister wart/cyst/growth on his left cheek.

Oh, must not forget the knee length suede boots with fringe around the top. These, of course, were caked with mud from the Memorial Day Weekend in/around Lake Mountebank.

To top it all off, he sprayed himself down with a heavy dose of Eau de Cendrier, just to ensure that no one would come near him.

It would probably been just fine…Cousin Fred sat behind me. I didn’t want him next to me…the dude reeked. But, he kept yelling out stuff during the show like, “Hey, Junior, I forgive you for having me arrested in Degueuler Springs!” At which point, Junior would look in Cousin Fred’s direction all bug-eyed and then go back to playing, all the while casting furtive looks in our direction.

After the concert, the crowd moved over to the Josie Adams Cultural Center (sorry, Centre) next door for the end of the Silent Auction and the drawing for the Peacemaker replica (more on that later). I finally had to steer Cousin Fred out of there once I saw he was standing in line to buy merchandise from Junior Brown himself.  I knew that wouldn’t end well.

Fortunately, it was a slow moving line. There was someone up near the table yelling at people to "stay calm and GET IN LINE!"

As I walked up behind Cousin Fred, I could hear him on the phone with someone, presumably 911…”So, if someone has a no-contact order against you, but you’re in public building and wearing a disguise so they don’t become completely alarmed, is that okay?...What kind of a disguise am I wearing? Does that matter?”

I grabbed Cousin Fred by the collar and moved him toward the exit. There are just some things that 911 shouldn’t be used for…

Take for instance, the woman in Florida who used it to order up some chicken wings and a carton of cigarettes. The report comes to us from our friends at Huffington Post. 
It seems that the 911 dispatcher actually dispatched (dispatcher dispatched…ain’t English grand?!) police to the woman’s home without the requested chicken wings or cigs. They (the po-po) found said caller in a highly intoxicated state (go figure).

The woman said she didn’t want to drive (she was too drunk), so in her law-abiding mind, she figured the cops wouldn’t mind doing take-out for her (I’ll bet she is a big tipper).

Instead, they arrested her for misusing the 911 system (police, by and large, lack anything resembling a sense of humor). On the way downtown (where she would at least get a cheese sandwich, I’ll bet), she began kicking the partition separating her from the front seat. After several warnings to stop, they (the cops) hog-tied her in the back seat to prevent “her from injuring herself.” Uh huh.

Let this be a lesson to you citizens of Cosmic City…if you want Cosmic City’s finest to deliver food or other health and comfort items DO NOT use 911. Simply call the nearest 7-11 (in our case, Hutch’s or Love’s) and ask whoever answers to send the cops - eating donuts and reading the latest copy of “Biker Babes from Sand Springs” near the magazine racks - to your home with some deep fried jalapeno snacks and low-point beer. 

They’ll be right over!