May 1st, 1998, was a day like many others. It was going to be a hot, sticky day in Pearl, Mississippi, not unlike many other days in the summer. However, on this particular day, the excitement was not going to take place in Pearl, Mississippi, but rather in New Orleans, Louisiana. You see, May 1st, 1998, was the day of Jazz Fest.
Todd and all his friends had been looking forward to this day for weeks now. Long hours at work and a surprise inspection a few days before by the president of the comapny was making Todd look forward to this day even more. Jazz Fest was going to be a redneck's dream - Jimmy Buffet, lots of beers, and scantily clad women walking down Bourbon Street. How could things get any better then that?
The time was about midnight. The place was Bourbon Street. Todd had already enojoyed the Jimmy Buffet concert, consumed enough beer to singel-handedly keep Corona in business for another few months, and now he was on Bourbon Street looking for a little action. Bourbon Street was packed with people, and Todd was sure to get some pussy. Todd was all decked out for the occasion, too. He was wearing a straw hat, flipflops, and a Jimmy Buffet T-shirt, with a few lays around his neck. He was sure to get a little action; there was no way he could lose. Little did Todd know that off on the horizon loomed an ominous puddle of urine that was going to ruin his chances of getting anywhere near any pussy, and also ruin his vacation.
Todd and his friends were not too far from Pat O`Briens, and the air was thick was the smell of beer, pot, and the sweet fragrance of pussy. Todd had been wanting to take a piss for a while now, but the crowds were keeping him from getting inside a building to use the restroom. Deciding he could not wait any longer, Todd marched up to a building and proceeded to relieve himself all over the wall, away from the crowds of people on Bourbon Street. Feeling much better, Todd zipped up his pants, and proceeded to rejoin his friends at Pat O`Briens. Unfortunatly for Todd, a cop was standing nearby, and he had witnessed Todd marking the building.
Before Todd got back to Pat O`Briens, Officer Friendly, who was anything but friendly, grabbed Todd's shoulder, spun him around, and slapped the cuffs on him. Todd, in his extremely drunk state, thought this was hillarious, and he began telling jokes to Officer Friendly. Todd looked right into the cop's face, and yelled, "I am the Mad Pisser! I am the Mad Pisser!" The cop, obviously not amused, hauled Todd down to the station for booking and mug shots. Todd, still wasted, decided to get a few more laughs by making funny faces while they tried to take the mug shots. Needless to say, the officers were not amused, and poor Todd still did not realize he was under arrest for pissing on the street.
After finally giving up on the mug shots, the officers at the station took Todd's cigarettes and his lighter, and threw him into a small jail cell with thrity-three of New Orleans' finest citizens. The cell was about ten feet by ten feet, and Todd and the other thrity-three prisoners were packed in there like sardines. The smell was horrid; the cell reeked of human excrement and musty, dirty homeless people. It was then that Todd came to a horrible realization - He was in a filthy, stinky jail cell, and none of his friends knew he had been arrested. Who was going to bail him out? Well, to put it simply, no one was. Todd was stuck in the slammer on what was supposed to be his glorious vacation to Jazz Fest.
Around 2am in the morning, the officers served the prisoners the "Blue Plate Special". On this particular night, the Blue Plate Special consisted of weeks old tuna. Todd attempted to eat it, but it stuck to his hands and he could not force himself to swallow it, despite the fact he had not eaten in hours. Later on in the evening, the natives in the cell were getting restless. You see, this cell had thirty-three people in it, but everyone in the cell answered to "Crusher". This was Crusher's cell, and he ran it like a business. After standing up for 6 hours, Todd really wanted to sit down. The only problem was, that in order to sit down, you had to do something for Crusher. After a little barterinig, Todd was finally able to sit down on the floor. The price? Todd had to hand over all his food to Crusher. Todd's food consisted of the moldy, stale, dry salami sandwhiches the officers brought around a few hours later.
The hours went by, and slowly, one by one, the other thrity-three prisoners were released. Finally, over 16 hours after he had been arrested, Todd's turn came around, and he had to pay a 250$ fine for pissing on the street. To make matters worse, the officers refused to give him back his cigarettes and lighter. To make matters alot worse, Todd had to walk over 2 miles back to his hotel room in the blinding, cold rain. His clothes were soaking wet, he had to curl his toes to keep his flipflops from coming off, and his legs were cramped. To make matters just downright shitty, he also had to take a piss the whole walk back. However, this time, he just decided to hold it, despite the fact that it hurt to walk with every step. To make matters as shitty as they could be, once Todd got back to his hotel room, he found out that all of his friends had gotten some pussy the night before, and had he not been in jail, Todd would have gotten some too.
In a way, you have to feel sorry for Todd. What should have been a wonderful escape from the boredom and monotony of Pearl, Mississippi, turned into a nightmare ... A nightmare soaked in urine. For years to come, Todd and his friends will remember that day in May of 1998, when everyone, except for Todd, had a blast at Jazz Fest. Todd's vacation had been ruined because he had "A Pissing Good Time."
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