Please rent your moving vehicles somewhere else!

So a friend of mine and her family are moving out of the apartment they previously inhabited with the father of the family. The family situation is, well, HORRIBLE, so the mom and kids are moving into their own apartment. The mom calls me up and asks to borrow my pickup to help with the move. I've got nothing going that weekend; sure, why not?

First of all, I thought I was only lending the truck for the day on Saturday. By late evening, I'm trying to figure out where my truck is and how I'm going to get dinner. I call my friend and she gets upset and says she'll figure it out (she's been at work all day). I tell her not to worry, it's not really a big deal. She offers to pick me up and take me to dinner. Okay, food will ward off the crankiness and I'll be happy. Come to find out, they want to keep my truck overnight and continue moving in the morning. Well, okay, as long as you come get me for church.

So, Sunday goes without a hitch. My friend comes to get me for church and we went out to lunch afterward. Then it's back here to call my family and work on homework. About the time I was getting fried and ready to start thinking about dinner my phone rings. It's my friend. Her mom has gone to work and left my truck. She can either come get me to get my truck, or she can bring it to me late that night. I opted for getting it. At this point my friend Rachel is also getting antsy so she decided to come with me in my quest for my truck and then dinner.

So, we pick up my truck. As we're driving away, I noticed something shoved in the door panel. There's this sock with some clanking metal inside. Uh, okay. I guess we should turn around and take it back. Then we looked inside. There were a few metal vials inside and a lighter. Hmmm....we've never seen anything like this before, but it doesn't look very good. Instead of taking it back to my friend who's already dealing with a lot and has a test tomorrow (today), we decided to take it to the mom at her work. The mom is rather calm about the whole thing and says she found it in her son's backpack. She put the stuff in the sock. We're a little confused, but drive away. Rachel calls a friend of hers who’s been in and out of rehab a few too many times and explains what we found. Um, yeah, basically we either had crack or crystal meth in our possession. Oh and from the time we found the sock to the time we passed it along, we passed SIX cops. Oh no, not just paranoid, we really passed SIX. So I freaked out and couldn't really drive. We stopped in a gas station parking lot so I could calm down a bit. As we're sitting there a cop pulls in, stares at us as he drives by...really not kidding. Then he leaves and stares at us as he drives by. There was some real intent in those eyes and Rachel and I were waiting for him to stop and say something to us. He would have had a blubbering IDIOT on his hands if he'd tried.

So we finally force the conversation to change and I finally calmed down enough to drive us back. Once we were here we weren't going anywhere. We ordered a pizza and ploped down in front of the game. Now, Rachel is British. This whole football thing baffles her, especially since the foot and the ball don't really make contact all that often. She's never actually watched a game, but this is the superbowl and there are good commericials, and she does need to be there for her friend who's still shaking like a leaf....so she watched it. It was so funny to hear her questions and even funnier trying to explain the answers. Now, I've never claimed to be any kind of an expert on the sport, but I thought I knew it pretty well. Um, guess not. She asked questions I couldn't answer and I realized I knew less about the game that I thought. Oh well.

We laughed and binged on pizza and had a good time. We were pretty much fried by that point anyway. I took two Tylenol 3s (with codeine) and went to bed.

So....how was your weekend?