Back the the big house...
So back to jail.
The reason they took me and not the DBF (Drunken Boyfriend) was when he called 911, he slurred on about a knife and they thought he was cut (I read it off the dispatch computer in the cop car too). He was so drunk he told them the wrong address twice if that tells you his state of mind. So about 30 minutes after the cops get there, the Sergeant comes over to the car and tells me DBF said no was hit and if I wanted to, I could change my story.
Hell to the naw.
I manned up and yelled at DBF not to punk out. He knows he swung first and I was defending myself (6'6"/220 vs. 5'10"/150). I realized later, even through his drunken stupor, he was trying to keep me out of jail. He is a lawyer after all.
So I get to jail and they're all ready to release me after a quick booking for the misdemeanor "battery on a cohabitant." But then they find a warrant from a traffic violation that DBF promised he would get cleared up with his best friend, a traffic court judge. That obviously never happened. Don't trust your lawyer. Mine has obviously screwed me and fucked me.
So I got my shoes taken away, my piercings removed, and my hair tie.
Spent the night in a cold, cold women's cell. Yes. Women's. All the gay dudes, women and trannies go in the same side. When I was out making a phone call the next day, I saw a hot-assed, dude with a shaved head walk by all shirtless. Unfortch, the guard was not amenable to the idea of a cell switch to accomdate my potential lock up lover. Totally sucked too 'cause I was all ready to jumped in by the Aryan's and stuff. I woulda even done a little liquid liner teardrop. Skinhead probably sensed I was needy.
But back to the cell for lunch.
They give me a carton of frozen orange juice, a granny smith apple, peanut butter, bread and a pack of grape jelly. Let's break this down:
1. I'm lactose intolerant. 86 that milk.
2. Granny Smith apples are only good for baking. Doesn't the sheriff watch Rachel Ray?
3. Deathly allergic to peanuts.
4. Bread? I'm so sure. First you put me in prison, then you try to make me eat carbs.
Cruel and unusual much?
(3rd & Final chapter next)
The reason they took me and not the DBF (Drunken Boyfriend) was when he called 911, he slurred on about a knife and they thought he was cut (I read it off the dispatch computer in the cop car too). He was so drunk he told them the wrong address twice if that tells you his state of mind. So about 30 minutes after the cops get there, the Sergeant comes over to the car and tells me DBF said no was hit and if I wanted to, I could change my story.
Hell to the naw.
I manned up and yelled at DBF not to punk out. He knows he swung first and I was defending myself (6'6"/220 vs. 5'10"/150). I realized later, even through his drunken stupor, he was trying to keep me out of jail. He is a lawyer after all.
So I get to jail and they're all ready to release me after a quick booking for the misdemeanor "battery on a cohabitant." But then they find a warrant from a traffic violation that DBF promised he would get cleared up with his best friend, a traffic court judge. That obviously never happened. Don't trust your lawyer. Mine has obviously screwed me and fucked me.
So I got my shoes taken away, my piercings removed, and my hair tie.
Spent the night in a cold, cold women's cell. Yes. Women's. All the gay dudes, women and trannies go in the same side. When I was out making a phone call the next day, I saw a hot-assed, dude with a shaved head walk by all shirtless. Unfortch, the guard was not amenable to the idea of a cell switch to accomdate my potential lock up lover. Totally sucked too 'cause I was all ready to jumped in by the Aryan's and stuff. I woulda even done a little liquid liner teardrop. Skinhead probably sensed I was needy.
But back to the cell for lunch.
They give me a carton of frozen orange juice, a granny smith apple, peanut butter, bread and a pack of grape jelly. Let's break this down:
1. I'm lactose intolerant. 86 that milk.
2. Granny Smith apples are only good for baking. Doesn't the sheriff watch Rachel Ray?
3. Deathly allergic to peanuts.
4. Bread? I'm so sure. First you put me in prison, then you try to make me eat carbs.
Cruel and unusual much?
(3rd & Final chapter next)
posted by willam at 10:34 AM
7 Comments:
Oh, Sweetie!
I think you're supposed to have been snubbed by Oscar(TM) at least twice before you finally nab a statuette by scrubbing off all your makeup and doing a women-in-prison movie...
And it truly does sound too horrible for words...whoever heard of orange juice with no vodka in it? Or, at the very least, a little champagne.
However the apology goes, the word "karats" needs to appear in the sentence.
Smooches,
Eric
DBF, Lawyer, 6'6" 220, didn't handle the ticket ... yep, I stand by my "needs to be replaced" opinion from the 1st post.
My ex husband is 6'6" 220 also ... they fall hard don't they? *wink*
and yet, you still maintain the glam-couture.
Your life is much more exciting than mine.
Glad you're out of the clink, Darling.
i cannot believe this happened. i am reeling here! hope the dbf suffers much or goes away, whichever you want more.
OMG! Is it bad I am laughing out and at the same time shaking my head in condolences?
I'm sorry they treated you so awfully but the good part is, it makes excellent blog fodder!
Can't wait for the next installment. P.S. Loved the Aryan quip! Too funny!
So, wait. Was the cellmate taking a dump a woman then? Good lord! (Not to get all misogynistic or anything, but it's such an assault to the notion that women don't shit or fart.) I hope she was at least using Tyra's squat-pull-poop method!
Looking forward to part three, but if this story doesn't end with a broom-handle rape, I will be sorely disappointed!
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