It was outside Atlanta Georgia. I was working a telco, finishing software on site because sales would promise any delivery date.<\/p>\n
“You want it yesterday? Yes Sir! What time yesterday”<\/p>\n
So you wrote the user interface first so training could begin while you finished writing the rest of the system on site. Usually in a noisy Teletype room.<\/p>\n
The company leased turnkey systems and was always shipping parts to techs all over the country. Many times unneeded parts were shipped with special herbal padding.<\/p>\n
I had went to the Atlanta airport after escaping the teletype room. I picked up some padding and headed for the motel.<\/p>\n
On my way to grab something to eat, I pulled out the bag of weed and started stuffing a bowl. I crested an overpass and on the other side was a road block. Seems a prisoner escaped somewhere.<\/p>\n
With no time to stash anything, I stuffed bag & pipe between my legs, thankful I hadn’t fired yet. It wouldn’t have been a big deal normally, smile, show ID, and get waved on.<\/p>\n
ID was the problem. I had it but it didn’t look like any licence he’d every seen. It was an IL Probationary Licence. It doesn’t have the restrictions of a hardship licence. I was free to drive anywhere, any time.<\/p>\n
But, it is printed on flimsy paper that you must fold to fit in a wallet. And on the back it says something like, ‘If you catch this here boy doing anything. Y’all just take this licence away, right quick, hear’<\/p>\n
When Mr. GA State trooper saw that, I got the eye, though those mirror sunglasses. “Y’all wait right heah, boy!”<\/p>\n
That’s when the real paranoia set in. No way to stash evidence with an army of troopers around. I dreaded him coming back and asking me to get out. An ounce and a pipe falling on the ground, fuck.<\/p>\n
After what seemed like hours (was only a few minutes), he came back after checking the licence was indeed official. He said I could go. The big smile and thank you were not forced.<\/p>\n
I grabbed some fast food crap and headed back to the motel a different way. No police this time but I waited until I was back at the Motel to fire up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It was outside Atlanta Georgia. I was working a telco, finishing software on site because sales would promise any delivery date. “You want it yesterday? Yes Sir! What time yesterday” So you wrote the user interface first so training could begin while you finished writing the rest of the system on site. Usually in a … Continue reading “Most Paranoid Moment”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-49","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-paranoia"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=49"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":52,"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49\/revisions\/52"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=49"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=49"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.steven-ruhl.com\/Stream\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=49"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}