And one DWI, which was a bogus charge because they were stopping everybody that was drivin' down that particular sidewalk

Looking up the Ron White quote almost obligates me to share his story from The Blue Collar Comedy Tour.

I got thrown out of a bar in New York City. Now when I say I got thrown out of a bar, I don't mean someone asked me to leave, and we walked to the door together, and I said, "Bye, everybody, I gotta go." Six bouncers hurled my ass out of a nightclub like I was a Frisbee. Those big ol' New York bouncers who thinks bouncing's a cool job. They just talk about bouncing. They get together with other bouncers and talk about bouncing. They go home and watch Roadhouse and beat off. [Retarded voice] "Patrick Swayze's hittin' another guy! [laughs stupidly]" for wearing a hat. I walk in a bar with a hat on; this guy, real pissy, goes "Take off the hat!" [proceeds to mock-flex, looking much like a gorilla] I'm like, "What's the deal?" "I'll tell you what the deal is- faggots in this area wear hats and we're trying to keep 'em out of our club." I was like, "Oh really? The only way we can tell down in Texas is if they have a haircut like...yours." And he got all pissed. Anyway, I took off the hat, and he walked away. About an hour later, I was drinking and I forgot. You ever forget? It happened to me. I put the hat back on, now, I'm between 6'1" and 6'6", depending on which convenience store I'm leaving, and I weigh about 235 lbs, and this guy is pokin' me on the shoulder with two fingers. He said, "That's it, you're outta here!" I said, "I don't think so, Scooter." And I was wrong. They hurled me out of that night club, and then they decided to square off with me in the parking lot. But I backed down 'cause I didn't know how many of them it was going to take to whip my ass, but I knew how many they were going to use. That's a handy piece of information to have, right there. 
 
The cops were called 'cause we broke a chair on the way out and I refused to pay for it. I refused to pay for it because we broke it over my thigh. The cops showed up, and at that point, I had the right to remain silent — but I didn't have the ability. The cop was like, "Mr. White, you are being charged with drunk... in... publ-ic-kah!" I was like, "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! I was drunk in a bar. They threw me into pub-lic. I don't want to be drunk in pub-lic, I want to be drunk in a bar, which is perfectly legal... arrest them!" They didn't arrest them. Instead, they had me do a field sobriety test. That's where you stand on 1 foot, raise the other foot 6" off the ground and count to 30. I made it to "wuh" (loses balance). "Is that gonna be close enough?" It wasn't close enough, so they call in for my arrest record. There's some good news! Satellites are linkin' up in outer space, computer banks at NASA are kickin' on, there's a telegraph in Fritch, Texas going (makes a long series of beeping noises, imitating Morse Code, pauses, takes a deep breath, and continues with the beeping) This part takes a while. (more beeping noises followed by a trilling Brrrrrrrrrrrrrp) Shorthand. (a pause) Beep. 

 

Anyway, I told you that story to tell you this story. When I was 17, was arrested for being drunk... in... pub-lic. (Jeff Foxworthy says "There seems to be a pattern here, Ron.") (continuing) If you knew Morse Code, you'd already know that. And one DWI, which was a bogus charge because they were stopping everybody that was drivin' down that particular sidewalk... and that's profilin... and profilin' is wrong. On the drunk in public charge, the arresting officer, who I had literally known all my life, you know what I mean? This guy lived four doors down from me in a town of less than 400 people. We've met.
 
Anyway, at the station, he asks me if I have any aliases. And I was just being a smartass and said, "Yeah, they call me... Tater Salad." Seventeen years later, I'm handcuffed to a bench with blood comin' out my nose, this cop comes up to me and says, "Are you Ron... 'Tater Salad' White?" You caught me! You caught the Tater! You can take down those roadblocks now. I call my son Tater Tot...and poot.