Brush With The Law

As requested by Road Chick, more info on my only, admitted, arrest.

To fully appreciate the incident some background information should be given. 

In small, out of the way, Holly Springs, Mississippi, there is a bizarre shrine to Elvis.  It is called Graceland Too.  It is owned and operated by a hard core Elvis impersonator named Paul Macleod who, after seeing Elvis on TV long, long ago, dedicated his life to him; he was an impersonator even when Elvis was still alive.  It is also run by his son, Elvis Aaron Presley Macleod. 

For over forty years Paul and Elvis have collected normal memorabilia as well as a lot of weird shit.  They supposedly have every TV, Radio, or magazine event about or with Elvis copied.  They have a room full of really old TVs and a lot of beat up VCRs, so it could be feasible. 

Probably the best and most bizarre feature is their hours of operation.  The sign says 9 to 5, Monday-Saturday, but it is widely known that they are really open 24 hours a day.  You knock, they get up and give the five dollar tour.  Considering the University of Mississippi is only about an hours drunken drive away, it is a must visit for any self respecting Ole Miss student; especially when drunk, in a large group and around 4am.  This is the only time I had ever been. 

If you go three times you become a “Life Time Member” and get in for free after that.  You got a membership card and everything.  I quickly became a lifetime member. 

Now, on with the story.

After I graduated from Ole Miss with my BA in Sociology I quickly capitalized on my new degree and got a job waiting tables three hours away in the Bustling metropolis of Jackson, MS.  I would often regale my fellow restaurant workers with grand stories of Oxford, which always included a drunken trip to Graceland Too.  Everyone always loved these stories, especially the colorful descriptions of the owner, Paul, with his loose dentures and occasionally gaping bath robe, as well as, his Son, Elvis, who also appeared a few sandwiches short of a picnic.  He would often pull out knives or other weapons to show off during the tour.

Finally one night after closing down the restaurant a group of my fellow restaurateurs decided to grab a cooler of beer and make our way up to the sleepy town of Holly Springs to visit Graceland Too. 

Now, a SUV full of people drinking beer and a three hour drive along dark, country roads may not sound like a good idea, and that would be correct. 

After a long booze filled three hours we pulled up at Graceland Too, piled out and knocked on the door.  It was about three am.  I had been here many times even later than this and usually after the first knock, the door was opened and the freak show would begin without hesitation.  This time, no answer.

We kept banging on the door, but no one would answer.  I was quickly looking like a fool.  We dejectedly turned to go back to the truck and along the way one of the guys kicked this small (probably the size of a license plate on a metal stick) sign that was hand painted with “Graceland Too”.  After he kicked it, it fell out of the ground so he picked it up and took it into the truck with him.  We all piled in and headed back out of town. 

After a few minutes we saw three police cars with their lights going blow past us in the opposite direction.  One quickly turned around and pulled behind us.  I knew we were in trouble. 

In an attempt to prevent him seeing the car load of drunken idiots, I got out of the drivers seat and went back to his cruiser.  He was on the radio hearing a description for a black SUV that had just stolen a sign from Graceland Too.  As soon as he looked at me I said, “It was us.” I was hoping he would offer leniency for my honesty.

He told me to follow him.  We went back to Graceland Too where the owner, Paul, and his strange Son, Elvis, were standing in the yard with police.  I got out alone with the sign and immediately began apologizing.  Elvis did all the talking for the family. 

Even though thousands of Ole Miss students come through there every year, he remembered me, my name, my major, and that I had graduated.  It had probably been three years since I had last been here.  This guy was some sort of idiot savant or something.  They wanted no part of my apology.  He just kept saying if he had charged his video camera, we would have been caught on film.  Finally I blurted back, “Dude, I already confessed.  You don’t need any damn video evidence.” This did not help my case.  He told the cops they wanted to press charges for Grand Larceny.  They claimed the sign was a one of a kind relic and was worth a lot of money. 

My hopes were quickly sinking.  By now all the police but one had left.  He looked disappointed about all the work, but told us to follow him non the less.  We arrived at the small police station and went inside.  The cop quickly told us that it would be a few minutes before Elvis arrived, he was walking, and that we should be warned that he is pretty crazy, so we might be in for a long night. 

Once Elvis arrived the cop convinced Elvis to have a private one-on-one with me to see if I could talk him out of pressing charges.  Me and one of the other guys went into the police garage with Elvis.  We apologized and explained the long drive and lack of door opening.  The entire time it was obvious nothing was going to change Elvis mind.  He was pissed.  He told us, “If I had my way, I would just take all of you outside and beat the shit out of everyone of you.” Now, Elvis was the same age as us, and a pretty big guy, but his main advantage was the ever looming craziness in his eyes.

The best I managed was to convince him to press charges on just me, since I was the lifetime member and should have better represent my standing.  He agreed.  When asked the value of the “very expensive, hand-made sign” he stated it was about $50.  I really doubted it was worth that much.

We reentered the police station and he told the lone police officer he wanted to press full charges on me.  The cop told him it would be taken care of and that he should go on home, he would let him know about the court date.  As soon as he left the cop started asking the tough questions, “Why would a bunch of people from Jackson drive all the way up here to see two crazy guys in a run down house?” We had no good answer to these tough questions.  He just laughed.

Finally he said I had two options.  I could sit in the jail for two nights until Monday and go before a judge, who would probably give me a fine.  He recommended that one.  OR, I could call a bail bondsman and bond out.  I asked how much it would cost to bond out and he said fifty bucks.  I opted for the bonding out.  I did not have any intention of spending a couple of nights in the Holly Springs pokey.  He called the bondsman and continued to make fun of us. 

I asked him if I could get a copy of the mug shot after he took it, but he said he wasn’t going to take one.  I asked him if my friends could take a picture of me in a jail cell, but he declined saying there was already a drunk guy in there.  I then asked if they could take a picture of me handcuffed or in the back of a police car, he said no.  Finally the best we could get was a picture of him kicking me in the ass while I was leaning over the top of the police car.  ( I really need to dig up that pic)

After we all went back inside, it was about five am, he suddenly said, well you guys could just go ahead and plead guilty, pay the fine and be done with the entire thing.  WHAT!  We can avoid coming back and seeing a judge.  “Wait, how much is the fine?” The cop said, “$250”.  I couldn’t believe it.  All this could be over for $250.  I made everyone in our group give me fifty bucks, luckily we were all waiters fresh from work, and paid for my freedom.  The cop took the money, shook my hand and said we were free to go. 

We drove all the way back to Jackson that night, stopped for breakfast at the Waffle House, and then went to bed. 

I would really never think anything of the incident until graduating from nursing school.  When you apply for a nursing license you have to list every misdemeanor or felony charge you have ever had.  Failure to do so will result in immediate loss of your license and they would supposedly never give it back.  I wanted to make sure I got it right.  I called Holly Springs and explained that I had been arrested three years earlier, but did not know what the official charge was.  I gave the secretary my name and the dates, but she said they had no record of any arrest for me.  She asked if I wanted to initiate an investigation. 

I said no.  I did not want to now get a charge for bribery.  I am guessing he just pocketed the money and went to his local Waffle House and forgot about the whole thing.  I can appreciate his corruption. 

•   Comments(6)    Posted by killer on 11/13 at 12:03 AM
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