Jack The Mother F***ing Weasel − 1 May, 1992

THE SETUP: To get the real feel for the story you must understand the social and political climate of the time.

On the night of March 3, 1991, California Highway Patrol officers saw Rodney King speeding on Interstate 210 and chased him for 8 miles at high speeds. When he stopped in Lake View Terrace, he did not obey commands to lie down and reportedly charged one of the officers. Careful studying of the video appears to show King repeatedly moving and attempting to get up from his position on the ground. The context - that officers believed he was "dusted" (high on PCP) is crucial to this, as no officer would want to attempt an up-close physical fight with a suspect high on this substance, due to the extreme danger. King suffered eleven skull fractures, broken bones and teeth, kidney injuries, and permanent brain damage due to injuries suffered during his arrest.

Three officers and a sergeant were indicted on March 14 for "assault by force likely to produce great bodily injury" and with assault "under color of authority," and two were charged with filing false police reports. Three of the men charged were Caucasian, and one was Latino. On April 29, 1992, three of the officers were acquitted by a jury of ten whites, one Latino, and an Asian. The jury could not agree on a verdict for one of the counts on one of the officers.

The verdict triggered massive rioting in Los Angeles, which lasted for 3 days, making it one of the worst civil disturbances in Los Angeles history.**

THE STORY:

It was a beautiful May Day and I decided that I wanted to get my car washed. Usually this would be very simple. I would take it to the local car war and press my face to the glass as it made its way through the various stages of blinking lights, moving brushes, and unknown chemical foam. However, I'm friends with Nito and he had other plans.

"Let's just go down to this self car wash on Foothill” he said. I had no idea which car wash he was talking about, but it was a beautiful day and I thought that washing it myself might be fun. Nito, Mr. Black and I piled into my white 1977 BMW 320i and headed down to the car wash. As he gave me directions I realized soon that we had made a big mistake.

We were he heading to a part of town that was questionable at best. We headed east on Foothill Blvd. and just as you pass the famous Wigwam Motel on Route 66 (http://www.wigwammotel.com/), there is a self wash car wash on the left hand side, just behind a liquor store. At the time there were not many people around and it didn't seem threatening, so we pulled into the middle washing slot.

I grabbed the washing brush and Mr. Black put quarters into the machine that would allow me to rinse my car off. He stacked the rest of the quarters on top of the machine. As I rinsed and lathered, I noticed two men who were parked behind the liquor store about 30 feet away. They may have just finished washing their car, or perhaps they were just hanging out. I think that the car was an Oldsmobile Cutlass or a sedan like that. One guy noticed us and decided that he would say “Hi”.

As he came closer, he became larger. Not taller, but more muscular. Picture Mike Tyson with cornrows. If I remember correctly, he was wearing a wife beater and dark Dickies. Perhaps we came together to look more intimidating as three rather than one, or maybe we were just scared and wanted to huddle together for comfort, but by the time that he reached us we had gathered at the front of the car.

"What the fuck is going on here?" He said. "Just washing the car" I said with a Danny Zuko confidence. "You all know who the fuck I am? He questioned. I looked to Mr. Black. I can't recall if it was because they were both African American and I was sure that they could relate to each other somehow, or maybe I thought Mr. Black might actually KNOW who he was. Perhaps I felt that Mr. Black gave me a little social credibility considering the turbulent times we were in. When I saw the look in Mr. Black's eyes, I realized he was just as scared as I was. "No we don't know who you are" said Mr. Black.

The man continued "I'm Jack the Mother Fuckin' Weasel, and it would be my honor if you guys would buy me a beer." We all stood in silence with the Bevis and Butthead look of confusion. While we were stunned, Mr. Weasel says "you know why they call me that?"

Mr. Black acted quickly "No". "'Cause I jack mother fuckin' weasels" he said matter of fact. I could only conclude from this that we were all weasels regardless of our color and we were about to get jacked. Mr. Black chimed in "All the money we have is in quarters over there", he pointed to the $5.00 and change on the wash machine. "That'll do" replied Mr. Weasel. I walked over to the machine and picked up the money; then walked over to Mr. Black and passed to him.

Mr. Weasel held his hand out flat in front of him. Mr. Black calmly positioned his hand over Mr. Weasel's and slowly dropped the quarters. I remember it being in slow motion and Mr. Black releasing the quarters in a way that they remained stacked in Mr. Weasel's hand. With that, Mr. Weasel turned around and walked away.

I think we all sighed in relieve that we still had our lives. Then without hesitation, suds still piled high on the car, we jumped into the car and sped away. About a block down the road, Nito says "we have to go back". "We are not going back, why would we do that?" I said. "I left my house keys on the wash machine." I couldn't believe it. We had made it out with our lives; we were free and now we had to go back. So what did I do? I pulled into the Wigwam Motel parking lot and made Nito walk over to the car wash. In hindsight this was a very cowardly thing to do. I should have driven him right up the car wash and grabbed his keys and sped away again. But, I was young, scared, weak, and white and it was all during the Rodney King riots! I wanted nothing to do with testing Mr. Weasel a second time. If it meant putting Nito in harms way to get his keys back, then I was willing to do that. What are friends for?

Nito returned to the car without incident and we drove away.

This story has been told over and over again since them, and it changes depending on how each of us tells it. It's a classic story in my life and I thank Nito for the opportunity to tell such a great anecdote.

**Information provided by Wikipedia at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rodney_King