HAULED MY SELF IN

In an email to my good buddy Wayne:
Last night at Phyllis' Musical Inn and after my horrific set I normally only hit two beers, but I had three and half a cup of water:

About 9:05 when comedians were still performing the bartender/bar owner turned off the Sox game which was in the bottom of the 8th to watch the Cubs game that just started, so I got pissed and stormed out instead of trying to plead my lone Sox status. Mind you I am buzzed and pissed as I walk down the street and I see a cop trying to get into someone's place for whatever reason, but I was thinking, "Oooooh somebody's getting a noise complaint" and I rounded the corner and got into my car. Watching a car on the other side of the street pull out, I decide to flip a bitch to get back to Wood and I was a little pedal heavy when I did it and as I noticed there was no stop sign, I noticed a cop in the middle of the road with his hand out to make me stop. He stares at the front of my car and I'm thinking my license plate fell off or something. He comes to the driver's side window and asks for my license, but no insurance card and then asks me what my address is and I tell him and I'm still not knowing what I've done wrong here since my eyes have been on him since I almost ran him over. "I'm writing you a citation." and I said, 'For what? What did I do?" and he says, "Well, all the other cars on this street are going one way and you are going the opposite (or something to that effect)" OH. Clearly I was in the wrong. Then I start to panic because I've had three beers and what if they make me take a breathalyser. Fuck. He took my license and told me to go to the police station at Augusta and Wood (about 2 blocks away) and wait for him there since he was on foot. But not to try to get away because he memorized my license plate and obviously because he has my license. Well, I am cussing at my self the whole 2 blocks to the station and I get in there and it was exactly what a police station looked like. Big counter, quite a few cops behind the counter and that typing noise that you always here when there are cop stations in tv or movies. Two female police officers approach me from behind the counter and ask how they can help me and I tell them that I am there to get a ticket for going the wrong way on a one way. They were like, "Are you here to post bond on your license?" and I'm like what? How much is that? "$100, or it could be $75." Well, what if I don't have that?" I asked and they were saying that I could drive on the yellow ticket that is issued to me, but if I get pulled while driving with that, I could get another ticket. So, the anxiety is just brewing and I am doing my fucking damndest not to be a little bitch and cry. Finally, the cop that sent me there strolls in and the whole place stirs and they were all congratulating him for getting me while he was on foot. Whatever. Not helping. So he goes behind the counter, approaches me with a yellow piece of paper wrapped around my license and says, "You did two things right. One, you stopped for me and didn't take off and two, you came to the police station and also, I don't feel like going to my locker in the basement to get my book to write you a ticket. " To which a fellow pig says, "Flores, your book's right here." And Flores says, "Well you better go before I change my mind." So I beat it out of there, sat in my car outside the police station for about 10 mins and cried my eyes out. I was so fucking pissed about the douche bar owner changing the channel to the Cubs game that I almost got slapped with a boat load of problems if not hurting myself or someone else. I can totally understand people killing people and getting into fights.
Drinking leads to anger and violence. Who knew? I thought I would be a depressed drunk not an angry one. PLEASE DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE!!