My Encounter with the Canadian Justice System: A St. Patrick’s Day cautionary tale in five parts


PART ONE: Getting hammered

My 2011 St. Patrick’s Day started off relatively normally. This is to say that I arrived at York University’s student-owned bar The Absinthe Pub at approximately 11am, clad in ritualistic green, and proceeded to drink several pitchers of green PBR and a few Irish Car bombs. Highlights of the day: Someone passing out green face paint. Someone showing everyone their balls. Someone else painting those balls with the green face paint.

Around 8:30pm, I decided it was time for me to head home. While I was walking across the Vanier parking lot, I noticed a hammer on the ground. “Awesome,” I said to nobody in particular. “A hammer is just what I need for my toolkit, particularly one that doesn’t cost me any money because I found it on the ground right now.”

Had I known what was about to happen to me due to my decision to pick up this hammer, chances are pretty good I would have left it there on the ground. Alas, things are not always so easy.

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>”Hey, are you alive in there?”

>Your eyes snap open, you awake from sleep, and suddenly all your senses are under attack. Flourescent lights render your eyes useless. A piercing ringing sounds in your ears. You taste vomit residue in your mouth. Your neck cries out at you for sleeping on it the wrong way. Worst of all, a powerful stench hits you like a ton of bricks.

>Somehow your brain’s synapses come together so you completely involuntarily yell “Yeah, yeah- I’m just waking up!” to the mysterious voice.

>”All right, you almost ready to go? I’ve got to leave for work in five minutes, I have to lock the place up.”

>You raise yourself up and take i your surroundings. You are alone in an unfamiliar bathroom. To your NORTH is the DOOR, locked from the inside. To your EAST is a BATHTUB. To your SOUTH is a closed WINDOW. To your WEST is a TOILET and a SINK. Above the sink is a mirror and a closed CABINET.

>What do you want to do?

go door

>”This is weird,” you think to yourself. You sit up, intending to walk toward the door, and you immediately realize something’s very wrong:

>Your PANTS are full of SHIT. Sometime between going out for drinks with your coworkers and waking up right now, you defecated in your pants.

>What do you want to do?

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