Stupid Hurts

My ears perk up and I look over to my co-worker Mike. He looks back and tells me “don’t worry it’s just a [tag]fire[/tag] [tag]engine[/tag].” I point at the flaming [tag]torch[/tag] in my hand before spitting one last ball of fire into the air and hissing the words, “did you forget we have been out here playing with fire!” He looks at me for a second before what was wrong with this picture clicks into place.

Mike and I were working [tag]security[/tag] on friday night and at about 2 a.m. and we had gotten bored. (It is funny how many of my stories involving the police start off that way.) We were out back trying to figure out a way to pass time when he pulls out a torch and some special sauce. And after a few minutes of practice we are having a good old time breathing fireballs up into the air.

And then the [tag]sirens[/tag] start.

First were the fire engine sirens. Since it was quickly getting closer we decided it was time to call an end to our [tag]fun[/tag] and games. I hand Mike the torch because I needed to get the special sauce off of my face and he begins to wave it in the air in an attempt to put it out. Note 1) that does not work. Note 2) if the guy standing next to you is highly flammable, don’t go waving around fire. Thankfully he had turned his back on me before waving the torch around, but it still freaked me out to hear the well known woosh of flames behind my back. I scream stop and show him the trick to putting it out and just in time to. The second we are done dousing the torch we see the all too familiar outline of a police Crown Victoria in the parking lot across the street. Its search light on obviously looking for the source of the disturbance.

Being that we were most definitely the source we decided it was time to make a hasty escape into the bar.