Thursday, July 30, 2015

Lets go to prison......at the Kennedy Space Center


Last week after driving up North Merritt Island to the Kennedy Space Center, which if you have ever spoken to anyone who has visited it is in the middle of  nowhere. I was on my way for a standard visit for business related reasons, which means I have a security badge to enter and leave the visiting center by just showing it briefly at the gate.
But on this particular day I happened to not have it in my car, in fact my wallet decided to take a lunch break and hop out of the car as well. So looking back on it now, my unwitting self was driving into a Hurricane. Now I usually go around the back gate (which has more lax security guards) as I have even talked my way in without a badge or any identification before because, you know, its the back gate. But this fine morning near the ass crack of dawn I thought I might act more like a professional and go in through the front gate. Pulling in I handed "Rick" who's name will be excluded in this story to protect the innocent, "Rick" asked for my badge or identification. Looking desperately throughout my car in vain I looked at "Rick" and was about to tell him I didn't have it, which would have actually not have been a big deal at all. He would have just told me to go home (45 minute drive) and come back when I had it. Instead of doing that I remembered I had my old expired drivers license from a million years back when your mom took you to the DMV against your will and your picture looked like a prison photo, if you don't have one of these you are most likely not legally able to drive yet. So "Rick" takes my I.D, looks at it and says "Ok, you need to wait a second for me, just pull over to the side". This is immediately weird to me as normally they will just waive you thru if everything is fine, I conclude that my I.D must be the cause for concern while I'm waiting at the gate shoulder. After 20 minutes of fidgeting with the air conditioner and radio in the 100' degree heat I see a Kennedy Space Center Police Cruiser pull up to the gate and start talking to "Rick". He points my way half heatedly as if to make sure I didn't notice his pointing me out. Don't worry Rick, I saw you do it! He waives the Officer into the parking lot then waives me over and says "you need to speak with the Officer". I asked him what was wrong, but he said he "didn't know" and I pulled into the parking lot and drove slowly next to the Officer who was waiving me down into the parking spot next to him.
Now I'm getting nervous, but who wouldn't be right? I've broken no "serious" laws in the past month, I don't have any warrants out for my arrest, what the hell could this guy want? Lets just call this Officer "Don" as he sported a full on body armor suit and sunglasses that resembled something you wear after getting your eyes dilated at the eye doctor. "Don" motions me to open my window and jokingly asks me "Are you boy from Mexico?", I said in confusion "excuse me?". He replied "Are you a Donald Trump voter? Habla Ingleis?". I started laughing because I thought the guy was pulling my leg, he then gives me this stare where I thought he was going to pull his taser gun out and start poking me with the electrical end of it. He said "you try and sneak into a Federal Secure Facility with a fake, expired I.D? And now your laughing?". I said "No sir, its not fake, but it might be expired as I don't have my wallet or badge with me and I handed Rick the I.D. Why would you say its fake?". For those of you that don't know my full name is Aleksander Martin Bologna pronounced (Ba-Lone-Ya), but to normal Americans you can say I'm related to the Oscar Meyer Family. The cop "Don" got pissed "There ain't nobody named Aleks Bologna, you might as well say your name is McLovin". For those that don't know that's a movie reference to Superbad when a delinquent who tries to buy alcohol illegally with a Hawaii I.D with his full first and last name being "McLovin". I told "Don" I was not an illegal, or McLovin but held off on saying if I was a Trump voter or not. "Don" shook his head and walked back to his car and started to talk into his radio about my I.D. Another 10 minutes of back and forth and I heard the words from the radio operator "Aleks Bologna I.D number XXX-XX-XXXX". "Don" looked like he had just been struck by lightning. Slowly handing me the I.D back without saying a word he then gave me the loving parting words of "Get the fuck outta here" in his good ole' boy accent. I drove to the back gate and hid in fear for my life for the rest of the day.

I don't know why this story is so entertaining to me, maybe its the fact that I almost got arrested by NASA for not having a valid drivers license to show to a Rent a Cop security man, thanks "Rick". But the real bugger out of this is that a normal person doesn't think my name is real. I am a McLovin' of the working world. I dress up to look professional and play big boy pretend job with a fake, expired drivers license. 

I think "Don" is right, I need to quit the crap and move back to Mexico.

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