It was a hot mid-July day when I got off the boat for my two-week break. I was excited! I was going to head back to Birmingham, Alabama, and party with my Uncle Wes. I arrived home in the afternoon and my Uncle greeted me at his door. He said he had bought two eight-balls of crack cocaine and asked if I wanted to ride to Jackson, Mississippi, and attend a blues festival. I said, "hell yeah", and the party began. We commenced drinking and smoking as we hit the road. We stopped at every rest stop and smoked crack in the restroom. It was hilarious. We ran out of Jack Daniels so we stopped at a liquor store just outside of Meridian, Mississippi. We got back in the truck and proceeded to a gas station because we were low on gas. Wes went into the station and I pumped the gas. We had Snoop Dogg blasting on the stereo system. As I was pumping, a man approached me and asked me to turn the music down because they had a noise ordinance in their city. I replied, "Who are you to tell me to turn the music down? " I was so intoxicated. After I said that, I looked at him thoroughly and noticed he had a badge on his belt. I became nervous. He was agitated with how I responded to him. He made a phone call, and then asked if he could search the truck. Within two minutes of him making that phone call, several undercover cars pulled in to the gas station." We were screwed" I thought. They began to search the truck and of course found our open bottle of Jack and our crack cocaine. We were going to jail. Three weeks later, we were back to our old habits. We had learned nothing of our time spent in jail.