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Quote HistoryQuoted:
@boerseun
Okay you gotta tell the whole story.
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@Andrewsky
Well what had happened was...
My Grandmother passed away and left me the little Savage .22/410 that I learned to shoot with (at least it was the only one I cared to keep). So I put off registering this thing, because I'm chasing tail and causing mayhem all over town. After a year or so I take it out of the safe and load it in the trunk and drive to the PD to get the serial numbers verified, fingerprints done and all that (at the time, anything unregistered was an illegal weapon and you actually got sentenced per round of ammunition on you). Road works blocked my usual route to downtown and this was before GPS (keep in mind street names change frequently in SA). I got lost and realized I had to turn around. I see a church parking lot and decide to use that spot to turn around. As soon as I swung around, blue lights erupted. Local cops were waiting for a drug deal to go down behind the church. Ok, no worries - I know most of the cops in town - we were on the same team at a fishing competition not even 2 weeks ago where I saw them illegally poach a kudu with their service pistols (another long story). 3 cops (that knew me!) approached me with pistols drawn.
Me: Hey guys, howzit!
Cops: Hey Boerseun...what you doing in this part of town?
Me: Ohhh on my way to the PD.
Cop: Oh yeah? Got anything in the car we should know about?
Me: Yeah, got a rifle in the back that needs to be reg...
Next thing I know they are dragging me through my car window. One plucked my CZ100 out of my holster. I'm cuffed and stuffed. Get to the PD and I'm promptly processed and tossed into a cell. Scratch that...THE cell. White boy with between 20 to 30 black guys in various states of sobriety. I backed into a corner and got ready...I was sure I was going to die - if not in that cell then years later from AIDS. I was a month short of 20 years old - what do I know. Anyways, the station CO got wind of me being in there and came down to the cell and plucked me out right as the guys in the cell started getting rowdy at the chance to get some revenge on the hated ibhunu.
CO calls the three stooges that cuffed me into his office and we run down my grandmother's death certificate - she's still alive! hahaha. Finally called up to Pretoria and confirmed she's dead. At which point the CO said to the three stooges something along the lines of "There are three bars in this town. Once you are out of uniform, your asses are his...". Anyways, never spoke to them again and never hung out with the local PD boys again. I survived it and learned to STFU.