It is a typical night in Major Metropolitan Area. The young college students are out in force, and the freshman are really making a showing of themselves before the summer semester begins and the new students begin streaming in.
"Wow," I say. "She's pretty drunk."
A young lady is sitting on the concrete outside of a bar, in her own vomit, trying to text her friends to pick her up. I lean over her shoulder, and look down at the words on the screen, which consist of this:
H3fo gsad I nee ri pick me 4j0 9.
I step back as she begins to retch once more but luckily she has emptied everything in her stomach and only a few lines of drool spill from her lips. I look down, and realize that her little sundress is hiked up far enough for me to see...well, it's not important, but suffice it to say that she decided to avoid that whole "Always wear clean underwear in case you get in a wreck" issue by not dealing with underwear at all, this evening. A puddle of something has formed underneath her.
Her friend stands next to her, a concerned look flashes across her vapid features. "I think someone might have put something in her drink!"
"I agree!" I chime in. "They put alcohol in it."
The young lady reaches out with her other hand and gives the campus officer next to her something that looks like fishing line with a bit of fabric attached to part of it. Aha! Her underwear! She followed directions after all. The officer absentmindedly takes the underoos and helps the young lady to her feet. When she stands, the officer, myself, my partner, and the 50 people gathered around us realize something: they young lady has, at some point, shat herself.
Slowly, agonizingly, the officer opens his hand with the young lady's undergarments in it, and pure, unbridled horror registers on his face.
The young rookie suddenly realizes what he is holding in his hands:
Another day in paradise, folks. God Bless the USA.