I was a pretty rebellious kid. I never touched drugs, but I drank and fought a lot, and I used to pee in public all the time. Funnily enough I didn't know peeing in public was illegal until one fine evening where I almost got arrested for it. More on that later though. I got into a lot of trouble -- police, friends, funnily enough my parents just let me be, bless 'em for it, and I kind of grew out of it, and by that I mean I still drink but I don't fight. So I guess society wins, right gang?
Contributing
Anyways. I'll save my more gory stories for later when people ask or care, but a kind of light incident happened after I'd just turned 18 and was of legal drinking age in South Africa (where I live).
A buddy of mine, codenamed Carl, went out, first to a strip of clubs called Greenside. I spent the evening getting drunk and talking to girls while he watched and drove me around soberly. He was pretty bad at talking to people, but after I did enough of it he agreed to give it a shot. This is a typical gamer -- inhibited, shy, unnatural when he makes conversation -- and being such, instead of opening on the group of gorgeous women I pointed out, he spoke to a dude sitting on a bench outside. I figured I'd let it go because he was at least doing SOMETHING, and it'd get him in the groove.
It went pretty well. They were becoming fast friends...until the dude he met said "Damn, it's cold out here." Carl gave it some thought and added his contribution: "Yeah, like my ex-girlfriend's vagina."
There was, and I shit you not, a 30 second silence before he finally said "Okay I'm gonna go" and walked off. That guy was a dick.
This, with less people looking like Jesus.
Enough of that. By the time we leave I'm pretty sloshed -- oh, and in between I saw a hipster putting sugar in an Irish Coffee and stared him down for five minutes before he left (I used to be a dick) -- but anyways, we go to a club called Cool Runnings. It's sort of like a rock-stoner-joint. Something.
It's dead by the time we arrive except for a group of stoners around a bonfire lighting up, and I'm not really into that sort of thing so Carl buys me another beer and I head outside, sipping away merrily. I started to head over to a large bush in the middle of the car park, which was dead by then. Right before I managed to pull my manhood out (which I assure you is very small) I hear someone call after Carl in a pissed off tone. Thinking some asshole's trying to beat him up, I retreat from the natural urinal and peer out, beer proudly in hand. Four cops with guns. Big, big, big guns. All pointed at me like I'd just slaughtered a group of children.
I half shat myself while the frontman just shined a light in my eyes. "Where you going with that beer?" he asked.
Not knowing I'd done anything wrong, I nonchalantly stuttered my way around saying "I--I dunno, home, I guess?"
"Public intoxication, we can lock you up for that."
I was pretty damn scared. If I got bailed out of prison it'd mean a lot of bad things for my life. Plus, you know, South Africa + jail = AIDS. No, that's not a joke. I stammered; "I'm sorry, I really didn't know that."
They were really angry. One of the dudes in the back -- and I should note one of them was a trigger-happy female, which just made me feel even more in the wrong -- shouted "Then why were you trying to run away?!"
Calm by this point I said "Oh, I wasn't running, I was just gonna pee in those bushes."
"Public urination, we can lock you up for that as well."
I don't see how anything could go wrong.
Too drunk to be any more worried and too stupid to analyze the situation I just gave a long, drawn out, "No waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay".
They cracked up laughing and let me go back inside the club. I thought that was real nice of them. They appreciated my honesty, but I'm not sure if they were just messing with me or if it really is illegal to pee in public. But whatever, the bouncer's wouldn't let me back in because they didn't want the cops to notice all the weed inside, so I had to pour my beer out anyway.