Last night started out as a pretty cool Friday night. I went up to Matt's house to go with him to this sushi/hibachi place called Miyabi's, in Charleston. I get there pretty early and jam on his electric guitar for a while. It's a Gibson, if memory serves, and has a sweet fretboard. Anyway, I chilled out for a while there until he got home from work and we all got packed in the van and headed down to Charleston.
This was my first time meeting Matt's friend, Sarah, and she turned out to be pretty cool. She's a gamer, pretty well-educated, and an unashamed history dork, so we had a pretty good time BSing on the ride up there. Apparently, according to her, 1848 was the most revolutionary year in European history, and there are a bunch of really kick-ass stories that go along with that. I'll have to read up on that sometime. Anyway, we all make it to the restaurant by around 7:30 and meet up with a few more friends.
Dinner was awesome. I love the Japanese hibachi thing, and with so many friends there it was an even bigger blast. I think the roster ended up being: Me, Matt, LeeAnn (Matt's wife), Sarah, Matt2 (Sarah's friend), Joe, Brian, and Terance. One thing I've always loved about hanging out with these people is that it usually ends up rubbing the squares at the next table the wrong way. What we consider funny, straight-edged tend to find offensive. I'm not sure why, but just seeing the uncomfortable looks on their faces just makes my heart warm a bit.
So, after we were all filled with fried rice and meat we decided that it'd be nice to see the ocean and have a couple of drinks to cap off the night. Folly Beach was right down the road, and the weather was perfect for it. We grabbed a couple of six-packs on the way and wound up right next to the pier at Folly. The breeze was spectacular, and I always have this odd feeling of tranquility when I'm looking at the ocean. I guess it's the vastness of it all. We were down there for maybe fifteen minutes or so, judging by how much of my Mojito Smirnof I had finished when I suddenly went blind.
At least I thought I might have gone blind because some asshole was shining a 500 watt Mag light in my face. That's right, it was the fuzz. Apparently they can smell fun from a mile off, and it just drives them into a frenzy. From beyond this light echoed a voice that was trying very hard to sound masculine despite being far too young to actually intimidate anyone. The voice said, "Excuse me folks, but there are no glass or metal containers allowed on the beach. Pour out your drinks now and take this stuff away." Now, I hadn't been to Folly in years but I didn't remember that little rule. Anyway, we started to pour our stuff out. It was then that I noticed that the breeze had picked up.
I thought to myself, "If I pour this drink out in this wind it's gonna blow all over that cop and he's gonna be pissed off." Thinking this, I took a couple of steps away and absently took one last sip. It seemed a fitting way to say goodbye to the evening's fun, short-lived though it was. I began pouring the rest of my drink out when this guy says, "Hey, I said pour it not drink it," and claps his handcuffs on me. This was the first time I've ever had hand-cuffs put on me, and the cop had my full attention. Having been blinded by his light I hadn't noticed that he had them in his hand already and was waiting to make an example out of someone. Apparently I had "disrespected" him somehow. My opinion is that men who are so easily offended shouldn't become cops. As my friends each got their own version of a "What a Dick" face, this guy walks me up the beach to his patrol car and takes off my cuffs.
He tells me that I have a few choices. I love it when cops do this. It makes them feel magnanimous after having been the biggest douche bag on the planet. He tells me that I can choose to pay $50 tonight before I leave Folly, I can pay $150 at my court date, or I can go to jail for 30 days. He also did the other thing that cops do all the time. "I could charge you with three offenses that each have a $1,000 fine. What do you think of that?" What do I think of that? Is that a question? I think it's idiotic to have laws on the books that could charge someone three grand for drinking a beer 100 yards away from a bar. Oh, well. I'm not stupid enough to tell this cop that. I just pretend like he did me the biggest favor of my life, shake his hand, and return to my friends.
After the ordeal we split the $50 fine and, with a couple of nasty words about Obie on the side, go off to Joe's apartment. There we have a couple of drinks and go for a swim in his complex's pool. It has been so hot lately that the water had to be about 80 degrees, and it was so relaxing. We messed around there for a couple of hours, and headed home. All in all, it was a really nice end to a (mostly) fun day. While getting hassled by The Man was kind of a let down, at least it's a memory. In addition, the rest of the evening more than made up for it. Yay for friends!
That guy in the straw hat makes the best party punch! 
As you may be able to tell from the goofy grins on everyone's faces, and the white cups in everyone's hands, we all were snookered in by that kid-friendly taste. I can honestly say that good times were had by nearly all, even the ones that were too drunk to have their picture taken. I'd like to thank Stacy in particular for having the presence of mind to capture photographic evidence of the evening...
I was a little distracted by that. It was her birthday, so I'm sure someone got around to administering the birthday spanking.
