Four cop cars, eight semis pointed at us, and one helicopter.
Yeah I know... so freaking bad ass.
Basically this is how it went down:
Madi and I were driving home in her convertible and cop car starts to follow us, so we pull over. Suddenly they are shouting orders at us, telling us to put our hands in the air and not speak while they pull their guns out, aimed at our heads. Three more cop cars pull up and an LAPD helicopter starts to circle up ahead.
By that point the entire neighborhood was out on the street and one guy was even snapping shots. We had to get out out of the car with our hands up, side step to the left, step back, step forwards slowly, sit down in the street -- all with our hands shaking above our heads.
Sitting on the scalding ground in our bikinis they handcuffed us and led me into the back of one of the cop cars where they questioned me. (Did you know that the back of cop cars are plastic?... like there is no seat. Just cold hard really really uncomfortable plastic.)
Turns out, Madi's mom had reported the car stolen earlier that month and had never cancelled it... so we were driving a stolen car.
I think I kept my cool throughout the whole thing, but it was pretty intense.
My dad (who was two houses down) told me later that he came out of the house when he heard the helicopter and saw two teenagers handcuffed in the street but didn't recognize me. So when the cops told everyone to go back into their house... he did. Nice dad (its ok I still love you). Oh and when my mom and dad figured out it was me, my mom started running towards us even though the cops were all yelling at her to get back (she said "no").
Epic. Straight out of a movie.
