"At times I think my coffee and tea addictions truly drive my artistic energy. It’s a small sacrifice for the greater good."

Siblings Part Two

Posted: 3/8/10 | Written by Jeannie | Labels: ,

(part one here)

Part Two
I flirted with a cop. My brother watched from the hood of his Cadillac.

The night my brother and I partied we went from the typical sibling rivalry to a brother and sister relationship. That relationship was much different from the squabbling siblings we once were. There was a mutual respect. However, I will never forget the next step. We went from a mutual respect into a friendship. And it all started with a phone call.

“Mike, I’m taking a friend to the airport. She needs to be there at 4AM so; can we come up and hang at your place until then?”

“I don’t care. What did you want to do?”

“Anything to keep us awake until then.”

“When are you going to be here?”

“Class is done about 10. We can make it in maybe 20mins so 10:30ish. Will that work?” I say. You know you are completely acclimated to the LA area when you think you can make it from Long Beach to Oxnard, in less than 20 minutes.

“Yah, I’ll be at the bar.”

“Oh? That one bar with the stools?” I giggle trying to be sarcastic.

“Considering there is only one bar, yes.” He says and continues telling me how to find the one bar in Port Hueneme. How there is only one entrance to the area, meaning only one exit as well.


“Where are you?” Mike asks my friend. My cell held up to her ear. I can’t talk while driving on highway one through Malibu. It’s hard enough to shift while driving over 80 mph, let alone skid around the curves while talking on the phone.

“We’ve just passed that big rock.” She says, typical of someone not from the area.

“Tell him, we’re past Zuma” I yell. Driving this fast with the top down is why god invented the convertible Mustang.

“Fuck. OK well I guess I’ll have another beer. It will be a while before you get here.” He says hearing me yell through the wind.


Finally we pull into the entrance of a small community. Silver Strand is not gated, but might as well be. Two cops sit guarding the exit like hawks waiting for prey. We pass houses until we finally see lights beaming out of a small bar, the only life on the residential street. There’s no mistaking Mike. His uniform is still one of black Dickies. I slow the car and he walks up.

“Yeah, um. I’m a bit drunk.” He says, not that he needed to it was obvious. “I thought you would be here an hour ago. So…I need you to drive behind me on the way home. I can’t get pulled over.” He pauses to burp.

“Why don’t I just drive you home?” I ask.

“Because the last time I did that the neighbors had the cops boot my car. I can’t do that again. Just follow me. Don’t go fast, just follow.” He says, I nod as he gets into the white monstrosity he calls a car. I follow him diligently.

The two lane street gets crowded as a police car drives next to us. I think, ‘crap they are going to pull him over.’ I see the lights flash. They are flashing at me.

“Ma’am can you step out of the car?” The cop asks after I’ve pulled to the side. I can see my brother pulling into the convince store parking lot across from us. He gets out, climbs on the hood and sits back, watching everything that’s happening. I do step out. I think the cop is surprised by my height. Being 5’-7” and wearing 4” heels made me just a bit taller than he. “Do you know why I stopped you?”

“Honestly no.” I flick my hair and wrap my sweater tightly, the V-cut shirt not really keeping me warm like the car’s heater.

“Your tail light is busted.”

“But my brother,” I unconsciously point across the street. “Told me if I had a red bulb in the socket it would be okay.” I play dumb very well, but it is the truth. He’s a mechanic, I’ll listen to him. The cop shakes his head.

“No ma’am, it’s still broken.”

“But it’s like, $200 to get a new one.” I whine.

“Do you have your license?” I nod and he lets me return to the car. My friend sitting in the passenger seat trying to figure out what’s going on, I just shake my head. Handing the license to the officer he takes it and returns to patrol car. I’m shivering. Without the heater it’s downright cold. “When was the last time you were in the area?” He asks. I shrug.

“Years.” I lie.

“Apparently, because your license is suspended.” My hand touches his shoulder ever so slightly as I respond.

“No, oh my god, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, you have to pay the ticket. But I have to take your license.” I turn on the doe eyes which work on men so well.

“But, how? I can’t drive if I don’t have a license.”

“Well ma’am.” He says leaning in close. “I can’t watch you drive away.” I blink a few times. It takes a moment for me to realize my friend is sitting in the car. I laugh flicking my hair, my hand lingering on my jawbone.

“If my friend drives away would that be okay?” I smile.

“Like I said, I can’t watch you drive away.” He smiles back. I nod and walk to the passenger side.

“I hope you know how to drive a stick.” I say as I open the door.


Mike is laughing as I’m retelling him the conversation. He offers me a shot of Yagger as we stand in his kitchen. “Jeannie you’re such a flirt.” He says as show my disgust of the Yagger, mouth agape and tongue out—hand motioning for another. “I was cracking up watching you. That cop could have easily taken you in with how many times you touched him inappropriately.”

“What? I didn’t inappropriately touch him.”

“And what was with the hair flicking?” He laughs more. “Okay, I have to know, why didn’t he let you drive back.”

“Because he took my license. It’s been suspended for a year apparently.” Mike stops laughing and then burst forth in a fully belly bellowing roar.

“Jeannie, you flirted your way out of jail time. And,” his finger is in the air, “and your car should have been impounded.” He says, and this is the point in which our relationship, changes into a friendship. I look at him and smile.

“And you would have watched as I got handcuffed and lead off to jail wouldn’t you.”

“Damn strait. And then I would call all our friends and reenact the entire thing for them!”


To this day, he still tells the story of how I flirted my way out of jail. Complete with hair tosses and over exaggerated movements. It gets funnier as the years go by. Yet, I know this moment was when he and I became friends. It took 20 something years for it to finally happen but it did. Like any friendship, it was a slow becoming but well worth the wait.

If you liked this you might enjoy:
Siblings Part 1
Family Antics
Writing Prompt: 30 Seconds