How Balloons and Coffee Can Lead to Trouble With the Law

It was a bright summer day, June of 2006, the prime of my long career of mischief and mayhem. On that particular day my friend Michael and I were driving to get coffee and arguing the problems of the world, such as physics, mutant animals taking over, and which summer movies would be the best. 

That day we were arguing over balloons...

“I’m telling you man, if you light a match under a balloon full of water, it won’t pop.” I told him emphatically. My friend had just shown me this trick the other day, and thus I was feeling pretty confident in my position,

“That balloon is going to &^#ing pop! There’s no way!” Sorry for the expletives, but that's the way we talked when we were teenagers. Swear words were like a foreign spice, used to kick up conversations, and make them something fresh and new. It didn't help that only moments earlier we had been in a deadlock debate about the thickness of grizzly bear skulls, which understandably had tensions running pretty high.

This argument continued, until it came to the usual conclusion of "Prove it." 

Being an amateur scientist is difficult, especially when balloons are scarce, so rather than going to buy some we settled for an old Jack In the Box cup and a Bic lighter. Rather than waiting until we got home, I wanted to settle the argument right then and there, in the parking lot of Brewed Awakenings (Local Coffee Shop). I took an old water bottle and poured it in to the cup, waving my hands like David Copperfield performing a Vegas show. Then, showing Michael that the cup was indeed full, I ignited the flame and held it to the bottom of the cup.

The end result was just as I expected, after nearly a minute of being exposed to the flame, the water had stayed in the cup, end of story.  “See?” I said gloatingly to Michael, who in the three seconds it had taken to demonstrate had already become bored.

“Yeah, ok whatever.” Knowing full well that was all the acknowledgement I would get from our argument we headed inside to get some coffee.

Now, as much as Physics related magic tricks are pretty entertaining, the story is not quite over...

As we walked into the coffee shop it felt strangely empty, only one table occupied by a group of surly old people playing bridge. Michael and I sauntered up to the counter, in the way that only teenagers with a pocket full of their parents money can do, and ordered what we considered at the time to be the manliest drinks(Anything that had coffee was manly at the time.)

“Can I get two grande white cow mocha freezes with whipped cream?” I asked, putting extra emphasis on the ‘R’ in grande to make myself seem worldly and attractive to the clearly uninterested barista. I forked over my cash and went to wait my drink. As I sat down I noticed two cop cars pulling into the parking lot. 

“Woah dude, check it out, popozow” At the time I was feeling pretty gangster for my use of the word 'popozow'. We watched silently as the cop cars pulled into the coffee shop parking lot. Living in Vancouver, there wasn't much to do, so seeing two cop cars no doubt about to bust some hard criminals was pretty exciting. 

“Maybe they’re just getting donuts.” On a normal day that would have been correct, but on this day it was not. Rather than pulling into the parking spots, they drove up behind my car and sandwiched it in. 

“Oh SH*& dude what did you do?!” My blood ran cold. Technically I wasn't supposed to be driving other people until I had my license for six months. A law I had been frequently violating. Granted there was probably no way that the cops could have known this, but in my teenage mind, they knew and I was going to do hard time.

I walked out of the coffee shop and into the bright sun. One of the cops stepped out and walked towards me. “Is this your car?”

Damn! They are here for me. “Yes.” I said timidly, not wanting to come off as threatening or guilty in any way.

“We got a call a few minutes ago about someone doing drugs in the back of a car in this parking lot. This car specifically. Do you mind if we search your vehicle?” His tinted sunglasses reflected heat beams at my face, searching for guilt, ferreting out every tiny crime I had ever committed, and then his words sunk in.

Drugs?! Damned old people! “Yeah, no problem, it’s unlocked.” I knew there was nothing incriminating in the car, so I let them search. I was still reeling from the fact that someone thought I would do drugs, in a parking lot, in broad daylight...

In the end, they found a  total of sixteen Bic Lighters, some unlit fireworks(At the time, not illegal) and about twenty empty cans of monster energy drinks. As much as I might have looked like a junkie deadbeat to them, it was clear that I had not been doing any drugs in the parking lot.

“I’m sorry, must’ve just been a mistake.” I wanted to scream: "No sh*%!", but I kept my calm, knowing I was talking to the law. Michael walked out of the coffee shop and towards the car.

“Can you mess with my friend a little?” I asked the officer, wanting some revenge for the stupid argument that had spawned all this nonsense. He smiled and waited for Michael to get a little closer before loudly yelling: “Stay back sir! Don’t come any closer!”

Michael went white, and froze in place, and the officer began to laugh. They apologized again and left me free to go. Of course, I realized then that the girl Michael and I were supposed to be meeting had been watching the whole time, with no context…

It was a fun time at the coffee shop trying to explain the whole scenario.

Three shots of espresso, and a whole host of expletives later we were all laughing and heading to the movies. As I left I threw a glare of my own at the old people, knowing that they now thought me a meth junkie. One of them visibly recoiled and I felt a twinge of satisfaction.

The lesson here is: Doing a science experiment kids? Not in the coffee shop parking lot you aren't!