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Related: Culture Forums, Support ForumsWhat was yer most criminal teenage escapade?
Please please please please don't respond
Agent Mike etc.....
Irish_Dem
(47,058 posts)I always followed the rules.
Bobstandard
(1,305 posts)He flew bomber missions over Japan, then flew transports in Korea and Vietnam. Todays Republicans probably think thats a crime.
Marie Marie
(9,999 posts)Ooops, should I have said that??
jpak
(41,758 posts)Did 20 years
Fuck Georgia
Yup
secondwind
(16,903 posts)to Flushing, to Shea Stadium. And listened to the Beatles sing. Oh what a night!!
We were grounded, of course. But it was worth it!!
And you are DU grornded44
4 evah
:wow :
Floyd R. Turbo
(26,546 posts)and he took a lamb. It was front page news in the local papers. A few days later I returned baby Jesus. My friend kept the lamb, hiding it under his bed. It may still be there.
Fort years later at a convention I was seated at a table with a woman who I discovered grew up in my hometown and had attended St. Michaels. She asked me if I remembered the time someone stole baby Jesus from the nativity scene. I told her I did indeed.
wnylib
(21,464 posts)on the shore of a bay in Lake Erie. The illegal part was that we were tresspassing on very private, wealthy, guarded property. But it was an adventure, too. I was a senior in high school.
There was a very wealthy, very old woman who owned a "summer house" on the bay. She was in a nursing home, but had staff who looked after the property - a grounds keeper and a guard who lived in an old carriage house near the entrance gate to the property. He had dogs and a shotgun.
My boyfriend and I were on a double date for dinner and had dressed for it - coats and ties for the guys, and dresses, nylon stockings (before pantyhose), and low-heeled dress shoes for us girls. After dinner, the guy with us, Mark, wanted to sneak onto old Miss Strong's bayfront property just to see what it looked like (and because Mark was a thrill seeker). He told us which area to approach it from without arousing the guard and his dogs. There was a rough, uneven stone and mortar wall, topped with barbed wire, surrounding the property.
We found an area where we could grip the stone and climb the wall, with the guys boosting us girls up. The wire had come loose there, so the guys went through, jumped down, and caught us as we jumped. Remember how we were dressed! There were huge NO TRESSPASSING signs everywhere.
I was amazed at the property. Several outbuildings besides the actual summer residence. A gazebo. Flower gardens and shrubs everywhere. A lawn so expansive it seemed to have no end. Summer house? What did the main house look like?
We peeked in all the windows that were not boarded up. It was dark but there were security lights that conveniently let us intruders see everything.
Then we heard the dogs barking in the distance. Mark led us down a path to the bay, to escape by walking the shore, but there was another high wall there, with sharp, colored glass embedded in the top. Mark found a break in the wall where a path led to a pier. (I'm sure he must have been there before since he knew his way around.)
On the other side of the wall from the property was a very narrow ledge. The deep, dark, and cold bay water was about two feet below the ledge. We had to grip the rough areas of the wall for balance and walk that ledge for the entire length of the exterior of the property. The wall blocked out the security lights so we had to use moonlight to see. It was not a full moon. We could hear the dogs barking nearby on the inside of the wall and sirens in the distance getting closer.
When we reached the end of the property and could go inland from the bay to city streets, we had to dodge cop cars parked around the gate. The heels on my shoes had broken off and my stockings were shredded. We made it back to Mark's car and giggled like grade school kids because we were relieved to be safe. The search contined inside the grounds while we rode away.
jpak
(41,758 posts)Yum
wnylib
(21,464 posts)that property. Broken shoes, shredded stockings, dirt smeared on our clothes and faces.
Mark, who had instigated this "adventure" in thrill seeking (to see what we could get away with) eventually became a cop. I encountered him 25 years later when visiting my brother. By that time, Mark had become the lead detective in the DA's office.
csziggy
(34,136 posts)The place where I kept my horse was on the far side of both the elementary and the high schools and there was no place to store saddles and bridles. So until I was old enough to drive, summer mornings, I'd put my bridle in the bike basket and the saddle on the back and ride my bike through the elementary school halls, over the railroad track (raised about 8 feet at that point), and through the high school halls to get to the pasture where my horse was.
I got stopped by the cops twice. Both times, once they knew my name, they knew who my parents were (small town) and that I was not a delinquent out to damage the schools. After that, they'd just wave at me as I rode by.
There was a lot of irony in riding my bike to get to my horse. A few years later I rode my horse to get to my driver's ed classes. Irony R Us.
Kali
(55,008 posts)traded a horse for a bike when she was a girl. me, growing up mostly in the big city, would have absolutely done the opposite. fortunately Grampa brought a horse to town for me to "stay out of trouble" of course the opposite of THAT happened too.
csziggy
(34,136 posts)Then it was a method of getting to the horse.
My parents got me my first horse when I was 13 to keep me out of trouble. They set the rules - if my grades dropped, the horse was for sale. If they ever had to feed the horse, it was for sale. If I ever got into trouble at school, ditto. A whole long list of rules that I stuck to religiously. I sold my soul for that horse, but it worked. I graduated in the top 10% of my class, never missed a day of school, never again got in trouble, they never fed the horse once.
It wasn't until I went off to college and didn't have a horse that I became a counter culture fuck-up.
OriginalGeek
(12,132 posts)not illegal in and of itself BUT I was 17 and raging drunk and had only had my full license for a week. Found a liquor store in Dallas that didn't look too close at IDs and me and my buddy got a 6-pack of Bud and a bottle of MD20/20 and some pre-mixed tequila sunrises.
we are quite lucky to be alive but at least I've never driven drunk again in 40 years since.
gratuitous
(82,849 posts)Checking the statutes of limitations on various misdemeanors and one or two felonies.
cinematicdiversions
(1,969 posts)Think of the upcoming Twitter thread...
Marthe48
(16,959 posts)I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio and moved to southeastern Ohio. Tiny town called Jerusalem. My brother and I made friends with some of the kids who lived there, and we went Halloweenin' with a couple of the boys. I had never heard of it, but you take the dried kernels off some field corn and put it in your pocket or a bag, and hide by the road. You throw a handful at a car going by and the noise scares the hell out of the drivers. Luckily, we picked spot in the village where the cars had to slow way down and I think we only hit one of them. And Thank God, no one wrecked! We ran away through someone's back yard, laughing our heads off. I ran into a clothes line and lost my glasses. I lost my high school ring somewhere the same night. I went back to the yard where I lost my glasses, the next day, and got a pretty appraising look from the lady who lived there. I think losing my ring, and getting caught out was fair punishment. But there's a little more of a follow up.
A few years after my husband and I were married, we were driving out in the country, after dark, and this bizarre noise filled the car, scared me to death. Sounded like a machine gun. My husband laughed and said, 'Somebody just corned us!" Been on both sides
trof
(54,256 posts)I was 17 or 18 and my buddy and I were pretty drunk. We were in his car and got stopped.
Bessemer, Alabama in the 50s.
He was arrested and his car was impounded.
The cop wasn't much older than we were.
He asked me what I was going to do.
I said I didn't have a clue.
He said "You can spend the night in a cell. We won't lock the door."
So that's what I did and I even got breakfast the next morning.
I think my friend got a speeding charge and no DUI or underage drinking.
Oh yeah, my mother was really pissed.
What wuz breakfast?
When I wuz 18 the drankin age wuz 18.
Me and my cousins and brothers went to local burger and brew place but they they refused to serve us.
We had all the ID and they pissed us off.
So we went outside, dropped our drawers and gave em **Pressed Ham** out the front windows.
Half way back to Camp, we decided we would give em Round 2
We pulled in, gave em **Pressed Ham 2** and got a standing O.
Such was my life 'O crime
Fact
Yup
Ocelot II
(115,693 posts)That kept me out of trouble.
Wolf Frankula
(3,600 posts)Wolf
Phentex
(16,334 posts)but after reading what they do to kids these days, I think I should not share my story.
Tikki
(14,557 posts)When I was 13 and 14 years old...
The Chevy ignition slot on her '64 Impala wore down and you
didn't need a key to turn it over.
Never got caught so I'm thinking I really didn't drive that far.
Tikki
Talitha
(6,589 posts)GReedDiamond
(5,313 posts)...a friend from whom who I had just acquired "a lid" of pot (cannabis).
The friend was also tripping on, as we used to call it, "acid."
I wasn't so much pulled over as run off the road by the crazy cop who emerged from his cop car, gun drawn.
I had the lid sort of hidden between my arms, which he was screaming at me to raise.
I saw a sewer 3 feet away, made a move to dump the weed in the sewer - which I did - but the cop beat the shit outta me with his pistol, I think it's called "pistol whipped," and after tossing his gun literally to the feet of my tripping friend, he beat my head against the curb, before cuffing me and transporting me to the hospital/jail.
They crawled down into the sewer and retrieved the weed, which was now soaked with literal sewer water, doubling the weight amount for the charge of "a substance containing marijuana."
While the crazed-cop beat the shit outta me, my tripping friend ran away. The crazed-cop never even asked about my friend, thankfully, he was too focused on kickin the shit outta me.
Because I TOUCHED CANNABIS. I had not even smoked any.
If you wanna know how it turned it out, let me know.
Tikki
(14,557 posts)Probably happening everywhere though.
A lot of the later 70's rebellion came from dealing with the attitudes and actions of the early 70's authorities and stupid republican nixon/reagan ideals.
The Tikkis
GReedDiamond
(5,313 posts)...called Lombard.
There were no Black people to abuse, literally.
There was one black guy in my entire Glenbard East High School class of 1973.
Hippies were up for grabs.
I had a previous "arrest" from these fucks where they scraped up the debris on my car's floorboard and accused me of possession of weed.
I was let go after paying 100 bucks.
Back to my original post you replied to, my Aunt was the personal secretary of the Chairman of the Board of Sears Roebuck, and she arranged to get me a lawyer who knew the judge assigned to my case.
They went golfing together, and decided to drop all six felony charges against me - which could have gotten me up to 25 years in prison - to a $500 fine, with no probation or any other penalties. My lawyer was paid $1000!
White Privilege, kinda way before it was a "thing?"
Mad_Dem_X
(9,561 posts)shoplifted some candy from a Wawa store in my town. I told my sister, who ratted me out to my mom. I was punished, and that ended my life of crime.