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Simone begged Jasmine to come with her to one other spot on City Island so they could try Henny Coladas. Jasmine had never had that before, so she decided to just try it before putting their night of boredom and misery to an end.
“It’s good, right?” Simone screamed into Jasmine’s ear over the music.
Jasmine couldn’t front. The drink was one of the best she had ever tasted, and before she knew it, she’d ordered a second, third, and fourth Henny Colada.
With liquor her system, Jasmine had lost track of time. It was close to three in the morning and time for last call.
Simone had purposely only had one drink because she was planning on bringing up Homicide’s name once she got Jasmine drunk.
“The last round is on me.” Simone ordered another Henny Colada and gave it to Jasmine. She pulled out twenty dollars and paid the bartender.
“I’m so drunk right now.” Jasmine laughed. “And did I tell you Nico is back home? I put it on that nigga as soon as he walked in the door.” Jasmine couldn’t stop laughing, even though nothing was funny.
“You should go home when you leave here and give him some more. Wear his ass out!” Simone gave Jasmine a pound. “Fuck marriage and a ring and all that shit. If you want to lock a nigga down, you have to wear his ass out in the bedroom.”
Jasmine burst out laughing again. She wasn’t able to finish the last drink, and she and Simone went to the bathroom before they made their way out to her car.
“You want me to drive?” Simone asked.
Jasmine gave Simone a look as if to say hell no. She got behind the wheel and made her way off City Island, and soon they were on I-95 South, heading toward the Throgs Neck Bridge. When they got to the E-ZPass lane of the Throgs Neck Bridge, Jasmine’s E-ZPass wasn’t being read for some reason, and the yellow-armed gate in her lane would not rise up for her to drive through.
“This fuckin’ thing!” Jasmine started blowing her horn to get the workers’ attention.
A Bridge and Tunnel officer came walking over to Jasmine’s side and asked her for her E-ZPass, so he could examine it and make sure it wasn’t faulty. As soon as she rolled down her window, the smell of liquor hit him smack in the face.
“Miss, were you drinking tonight?” the officer asked her.
“Yes.”
“How many drinks did you have?”
“Oh shit, here we go, Simone. I don’t know. I think three drinks.”
“Okay, miss, I’m going to need you to turn off the engine, and I need you and your friend to step out of the vehicle.”
“Step out of the car for what?”
“Turn off the engine and step out of the car right now!” the cop screamed.
“Right now!” Jasmine screamed back, mocking the officer.
“Jasmine, just do what he says,” Simone said, and she followed the officer’s directions and got out of the truck.
The officer got on his radio and called for assistance. Within two minutes, three other officers arrived, and Jasmine started to get belligerent.
“I’m not getting out of shit! I’m working for the federal government. Y’all can call Agent Gosling!”
The officers looked at each other; they didn’t know what Jasmine was talking about. She hadn’t shown them a badge or any kind of credentials, so they dismissed what she had said. But Simone peeped everything.
The uniformed officers were trying to rip open Jasmine’s truck door, but they couldn’t.
Jasmine took out her BlackBerry and pressed her panic button for the first time, and within five minutes New York City police cars started coming to the scene with their sirens blaring. The FBI had dispatched them to the scene to assess everything until their agents could arrive.
Once all the police showed up, Jasmine got out of the car. And as soon as she did, she was handcuffed and taken down to the ground.
“Call Agent Gosling,” she kept screaming, but her screams went on deaf ears.
The police lifted Jasmine off the ground and took her to the Bridge and Tunnel office, which contained a holding cell, a mere fifty yards away from the toll lanes.
