Raided in the Hamptons (**Unedited version**)

Where: Hampton Bays, Long Island, New York
When: A weekend in July, 1995

I picked up Maura at 9:30 pm on Friday night on our way to the Hamptons, waiting out the early evening traffic. We got to the house at 10:30pm, joining up with Jane, Tony and Ken, Janeís friend from her job. We hung out watching the green TV, and drinking.

The next morning, Theresa, our mostly unseen housemate arrived about 11am. Mauraís cousin Brian arrives at about 11:30. My friends Steve and Neil told me they were going to get there by 11am, but have not arrived as of noon, so we decide to head out and leave directions to Neptunes for them. Let me tell you, I know how to get to Neptuneís when I am going there, but cannot write directions without seeing where I am going, so I write on the note that they should ask for directions at a gas station because I am not sure if they are correct. It turns out they werenít, so I figured I wouldnít ever see my friends today. At around 2:30, I find my friends hanging out at the bar. They told me they didnít have to pay for parking because they parked down a dead end street. Jane tells them that only town residents are allowed to park there, and Steve goes to check his car. Sure enough, he got a $50 ticket.

We head out at about 5:30 to pick up some food for our barbecue, and head home. Jimmyís friend Steve and his girlfriend are at the house sans Jimmy. Shortly after, Steveís brother and three others arrive. Jane tells us that Eileen asked us to her cabana for a barbecue there at 6pm, so we agree to bring all of our food there. We run into some problems trying to figure out who will be driving, and who will be going with whom. After all is said and done, at 7:45, I drive myself, Jane, Tony and Ken to pick up more food and arrive at Eileenís 10 minutes later. As we pull in, the other car filled with the remaining seven people arrives. We eat, drink and be merry. One of the people from the other car, Thomas, is a nut case, even by my standards. He pours boiling wax on his hand several times along with telling us stories that may be true only in his world. A little while later, Thomas and two other people leave to go back to the house because one of the guys is feeling sick. Well, thatís just great, since they came with seven in the car and are leaving with three. That leaves eight people to fit in my Acura, which holds five at the most. At 10:30, Maura gets really tired and crabby and wants to go back home to sleep. I decide to drive her and Ken back, and then come back to Eileenís, because I am a party animal and am not going to give up at a time when the clock has four digits.

Thatís when it gets interesting...

When I pull up to the house, I notice there is nowhere to park. The driveway if full of cars, and there is one in the street. This is NOT good. With a six car limit for the house, and at least four cars in the backyard, there are now 15 cars excluding mine. I find Steve and tell him that his friends have to move their cars into the back, or on the side of the house. There is one car in particular, an expensive looking white Camaro that he says belongs to Scott. For all of you people who like the mischievous trouble maker kind, this is your hero. Steve leads me inside and we find Scott. Steve tells him that I am the owner of the house and that he has to move his car. He shrugs his shoulders like he doesnít care. I tell him that if he doesnít move it, everyone will get ticketed because of the car limit. If he would have moved the car right there and was cooperative in any way, this story may have ended, but what fun would that have been? I try to find Jimmy, but he doesnít seem to be there. Someone said he left but was coming back. It didnít look like Scott was in any rush to move, so I went upstairs, picked up Thereasa and headed back. Ken said he would come back at about midnight to join us, since we needed another car to get the rest of us back anyway.

I tell Jane about the situation at the house, and she seems little annoyed, as she should. She decides to call the house to see what the situation is like. She claims to be one of Jimmyís friends and asks if she can come out to the house. Someone tells her that she can come out to the house because he owns the house, and that there is no parking so she would have to find parking somewhere else. Jane decided that we should call the police and go back to the house. The plan was for Eileen to call and complain to the police 10 minutes after we left and claim she is a neighbor. We head back with a very drunk Brian in the car. It turns out I was able to fit everyone in my car.

We get back to the house, and it looks as though some cars have gone. We go inside and ask our guests what happened. They said that everyone left. I am relieved and tell Jane that we better call the police and tell them not to come or to tell Eileen not to make the call if she has already. I go downstairs to see what shape the house is in, and see everyone still there. How the hell did Maura think that everyone left. Is she a spy working for the other side? I go back upstairs and tell Jane that they are still here and continue what we started. When 15 minutes go by and the police have not arrived, we call again. The dispatch officer seems a little rude saying that we should have proof that we are the tenants. Thomas says that the police would come now that a second call was made. He comes from a family of police officers and claims that a second complaint means that have to come. We go downstairs and tell the unwanted guests that the neighbors called the police (a lie) and that they may want to clear out and avoid any problems. Five minutes later, and police car arrives and that is when this story gets better.

Jane, Theresa and I go out to the officer. There are about ten of the unwanted guests out there also. they look nervous probably thinking that were just kidding when we told them that the police were coming. One of these guys asks if the officer could move his car so that he could pull out, and the officer says firmly, "Stay right there for now!" We start walking to the back of the house with the officer and he asks what people we want out of the house, and we whisper to him, "everyone." We go downstairs and immediately, everyone becomes tense. The officer tells everyone that they will have to leave and proceeds to check the rooms for stragglers. He finds a girl passed out in one of the rooms and she stirs. She asks whatís happening and he says that everyone is leaving, and that she would have to leave also. Everyone is shuffling out now, except that moron Scott. One of his friends says, "Scott, címon, letís go." Scott is stuffing his face and says, "Iím not ready." The officer walks over to him, pulls his chair out from under him and says ,"Youíre fucking ready NOW, Scott!" Scott finally start walking out, but really slowly and the officer says, "Whatís the matter Scott, canít you fucking eat and walk at the same time!?" Scott is in a no-win situation, and starts walking and shaking his shoes after every step. Once again, the officer says, "What do you have fucking sand in your shoes! Move it!" We are pretty sure that either this police officer or some backup was called to stop Scott after he left. All of these people were in no shape to be driving.

Finally, they are all out, except Steve and his girlfriend who are cleaning up a little. We notice an extra car in the yard. We thought that maybe a whole bunch of people went out somewhere in one personís car and that they may return to a house with no friends. Ten minutes after the police leave, Chris, the surfer-reject appears from the woods in the backyard. I think either he has problems with the law, or had drugs on him. He leaves. Steveís car is caught in sand in the yard, and we spend an hour trying to get him out without success. We were thinking about just leaving them out there and locking all the doors, but decided to let them stay the night. they call AAA and finally get towed out sometime around 4am. End of confrontations.

Now to the lighter side.

Brian is passed out on the lounge chair outside. We should have told the police that we didnít know who he was, but that really wouldnít have been nice. We try to wake him up to move him inside just in case any wild animals attack him in his sleep or someone comes back to retaliate against us. Just kidding. He is dead to the world. No reaction at all. Thomas and I decide to carry him, along with the lounge chair into the house. He is about 190 pounds and we are bouncing all over the place. No reaction. we are cracking up. We get him halfway through the door when we have to let him down because we canít all fit through at the same time. Thomas move inside, and I take the outside. We budge him passed the frame, which catches on of the legs of the chair and fold up catching Thomasí finger. He is screaming in pain and telling me to lift Brian. I am not sure lifting him will do the trick, and finally after it looks like his finger might have to be amputated, we just throw Brian off of the chair to release the pressure. Brian slurs, "What the fuck?" then just passes out. We notice some liquid spill to the floor by Brian and wonder if he just pissed in his pants. It turns out that it was water leaking from the legs of the chair, we hope.

Thomas runs his finger under cold water. It looks the size of a giant carrot. Now we have to pull Brian in since we cannot left him anymore. We finally get him in. the chair is now in a slightly concave position, so we start rocking him for fun. No reaction. Thatís basically it.


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