Back In Army Custody

Army Custody

Army Custody

The next day, I was removed from the cell in Alexandria. A Military Police (MP) escort had been sent to pick me up and take me back to Fort Polk. I was back in Army custody.

 

I remember saying “Man, am I glad to see you guys!” Not too sure that the feeling was mutual but I was so ready to get the heck out of that disgusting cell.

I was handcuffed and put into the backseat of a car. They must have let Eddie go back to Post on his own because he was not in the car. It took about an hour to get back to Leesville.

Once we got to Ft. Polk, I was taken to the Criminal Investigation Division (CID) to talk to Special Agent Thundercloud.

We had another conversation about me helping him out. About six month prior, we had this same conversation but, I had no intention of ever helping him.

This time it was a different story. I agreed.

In turn, if I was productive for him, he would do everything in his power to reduce the amount of time I would have to spend in prison.

I was allowed to cut and color my hair back to normal because if I didn’t they were going to shave it off when they locked me up. That would have looked suspicious when working with the Drug Suppression Team.

Thundercloud said he would be in touch with me when it was time to work together. Not sure why, but there was  trust building between us. He really seemed to care about me and what happened to me. Maybe I was being used but it didn’t seem like it.

The MP’s took me to the Installation Detention Facility (IDF) which was like the Post Jail. Things got a little weird.

I had been gone for about 6 months and had been out of touch with military formalities.

Upon arriving, forgetting to stand at attention and recite the proper reporting procedure seemed to be the trigger to trip. I had forgotten to act like a soldier and was immediately reminded by the Sergeant in charge that I had better find my military bearing.

Even though I was an Inmate, I was still going to follow military protocol.

I was told to stand at attention as they in-processed me. They asked me a bunch of questions about why I was there and what I had been doing.

I began to feel like they were messing with me because they were either angry at the world, disgusted by me or were just plain bored.

The verbal barrage and insults kicked up my frustration and so I began to get shorter and cocky with my answers. I figured, I was going to prison so what more could these guys do.

The Sergeant in charge got up in my face and I felt like I was back in Basic Training again. The last question set the tone for the rest of the entire day. “Inmate, when was the last time you thought about suicide?”

I replied “Probably last night, when I got arrested, SIR!” (Sergeants hate to be called Sir.)

He told the guard that would be taking me to my cell, “24 hour suicide watch!”

It was at this time I was instructed to remove ALL my clothing. I was taken to an iron bar cage and the guard came in and removed the blankets, sheets and anything that I could potentially harm myself with.

He stepped out, shut the door behind him and locked me in.

Another night in jail, only this time, I laid on the mattress completely naked.

Every hour, one of the guards would walk by the cell and check on me.

Since I had been using drugs almost every day up to this point and it had been over 24 hours since my last use, my body started to go through some changes.

I shivered quite a bit and I felt like I was going to die. Not because of pain but, the depression that sets in when you come down from drugs is intense. When you start slipping down, you begin to panic. Knowing that I would never have drugs again made me feel crazy and helpless all at the same time.

 

I needed a fix, but it wasn’t coming. Rage, frustration and anxiety came over me. It felt like a balloon was trying to pop inside my chest. It wasn’t fun or easy, but I made it through the night.

 

The next morning I was given pancakes to eat with no utensils. Very messy, but this food was good. Not like the stuff they gave me to eat in the civilian jail.

I was still naked and the guard must have been tired of checking up on me because he said “Are you gonna kill yourself or what?” My reply of “No” must have been enough because he brought me a uniform.

Both times I was arrested by CID, I waived my rights to talk to a lawyer before making statements. Not sure it was a good idea, but at this point I was not known for making smart decisions.

A couple days later a lawyer was assigned to me and I was formally charged with the crimes that I would be Court-Martialed for.

Desertion, Possession of MDMA, Distribution of MDMA and Distribution of LSD.

 

Charge Sheet One

Charge Sheet One

Charge Sheet Two

Charge Sheet Two

Captain Castillo told me that the maximum sentencing for the crimes I committed was a total of 38 years.

He also said that he had tried a few other cases like mine and no one ever was sentenced fully to the maximum.

However, because of the volume of drugs I was responsible for selling, he was very concerned that I would be most likely to receive an 8 year sentence.

This scared the crap out of me! 8 years!

There was an option for a pre-trial agreement. I plead guilty to all the charges and was willing to assist the government with testimonies against other soldiers that were either dealing or using drugs.

He would get me a maximum of 6 years, no matter what the Judge decided.

I already told SA Thundercloud that I would work with him. I had signed sworn statements detailing my criminal activities without a lawyer present. It was a no-brainer.

 

Done!

 

Locked Up

Door

Door

 

Locked Up

After putting me in the car, the security guards went back in to see if they could locate any of the drugs. The informant and an undercover CID agent said, that I had been selling that night and I had been wearing a leather jacket when I walked in.

As I dropped my jacket in front of the stage, Jocie saw it land on the ground. When the cops grabbed me and left the building, she quickly grabbed it, rushed to the women’s bathroom and shoved it into the garbage can. She sat there, next to the garbage the rest of the night until the cops were completely gone.

They never found it.

They did find what they thought was my jacket, on the back of a chair, with 26 hits of LSD in small baggies sitting in one of the pockets. They asked the undercover agent and the informant if it was my jacket and they both said no, it belonged to Eddie.

It was at this point that they apprehended Eddie. They cuffed him and put him in a different car. Arriving at the Louisiana State Police Headquarters, they took Eddie to a room.

We had not seen each other since the arrest and they told him that I had talked in great detail about our purchasing and dealing.

For some reason he believed them and spilled his guts as the Trooper and Agent Thundercloud took a sworn statement. The amount of information he gave them was more than they already had on me.

Under military law, you don’t always need physical evidence. A sworn statement from a reputable source is good enough to charge and incriminate you.

Eddie gave them enough ammunition to put me away for a long time. I don’t know why he believed that I had talked. They told me the same thing about him but I did not believe them.

I was wrong.

I had no idea what was in store for me. One of the cops sat me down in a chair and let me sit in a room for a while.

My arms were still bound behind the chair with handcuffs. My head was still a little fuzzy from the “X” that I had taken and I did not have a full grasp on everything.

The two cops came back into the room and started to say some stuff to me like “Boy, who do you think you are coming around here selling drugs in our community?”

My reply had something to do with them not being able to do anything with me because I was Army property. They did not like that at all and I received a couple of smacks to the back of my head.

I couldn’t do anything because I was handcuffed to the chair. I knew that if I attempted anything I would receive a proper beating and probably be charged with some sort of resisting arrest or assault of an officer.

These guys were real redneck and probably related to everyone in the local law enforcement. Thundercloud came in to let me know that Eddie had talked, told them everything and that I would be better off fessing up.

I said that I didn’t believe them and that I wanted to talk to a lawyer.

On that note I was told that I would be picked up the next day by Military Police escort and he would talk to me again.

After the “interrogation” I was processed and taken to a cell. The door was solid metal painted a light green and there was a small slot that opened for a food tray.

I walked into the cell and they door closed behind me. The distinct sound of keys jumbling and the following sound of the lock engaging, ensured me that I was sealed in for the night.

The only light coming in was through the open food tray slot. I found my way over to a sheet of metal sticking out of the wall that was supposed to be a bunk.

The smell of metal, paint, sweat and urine and who knows what else, entered my nostrils with every breath. I laid down on the bunk and I started to process what was going on. Realizing there was no way out of this I started to panic.

The last time I was in jail I knew I would be out in a matter of days. Praying to God to get me out of this situation would not work this time.

My family would probably be glad to know I was no longer on the run.

My life was ruined and it was all my fault.

As the familiar feeling of drugs wearing off and depression set in, I think I cried a little bit and then fell asleep.

Thinking to myself….

Maybe I would just be better off dead. 

The Night I Was Captured

Captured

Captured

The Night I Was Captured

It was about six months since I went AWOL. My life was considerably different than it was before I left. My sole source of income was selling drugs and I had to sell more than I was consuming.

I had a few close friends but, everyone else was a customer.

There were times when I wished that I just would fade away. Go out in oblivion. I had nothing to look forward to. Buy more drugs, sell more drugs, take more drugs was the routine.

I said on numerous occasions that if ever caught, I would swallow everything and not be taken alive.

I could not keep up with all the sales. There were a number of people that I would front drugs to in quantity, and they would sell them for a cut or for some of the drugs.

Eddie (another soldier) was becoming one of my faster movers. I took him to Houston with me and hooked him up with Red (my dealer) so that he could make some money for himself.

Eddie and I had just gotten back to Leesville with 100 tabs of “X” for me and a sheet (100 hits) of LSD for him. I helped him put all of the acid in 1″ x 1″ baggies and there were a ton of baggies left over.

For some reason I decided to put all the “X” I purchased, into the left over baggies. It was a random thing because I had never done that before.

On October 28th 1989, just another usual night, Eddie, Jane, Marshall (another one of my movers) and a bunch of other regular soldiers and locals, headed out to Club Late Nite in Alexandria. We got there around 11:00 pm and started making our rounds.

I still had all of mine except for what I consumed and it was all in my leather jacket. Eddie had sold most of his stuff back at Ft. Polk before we got there. He had about a fourth left and he was carrying it in a leather jacket he had recently purchased.

I made my way to the main stage near the DJ booth at the back of the club and started dealing and dancing. Right before midnight a friend came towards me very quickly and in a panicked voice said “Dude, you’re about to get busted!”

It was at this point, I realized that my promise of ingesting all of my drugs was impossible. Why did I put all of them in the bags?

Outside of club Late Nite was a Drug Suppression Team comprised of Army Criminal Investigation Division, Louisiana State Troopers, and the Late Nite security guards which were off duty Rapides Parish Sheriffs.

They had an informant tell them that I would be there “for sure.” My friend overheard them talking about the operation and came in to warn me.

Midnight was their cue to rush in and grab me, and there was nowhere to go.

As I looked over towards the front entrance, I could see two Sheriffs headed my way. They split and moved around the stage from both ends. The first Sheriff grabbed my arm and said “Come with me.”

At the exact moment he grabbed me, I somehow slid my jacket off and dropped it in front of the stage. As they both escorted me out of the club, neither of them saw my jacket leave my body or hit the floor.

People were in shock, watching me being taken away. I couldn’t see anyone or say anything because we were moving so fast.

As I was pushed out the door, I was met with drawn pistols and one of the Troopers shouted “Up against the wall!”

The Sheriff released my arm and as I turned to face the wall, someone pushed me into the wall and kicked my legs apart. “Arms up and don’t move!” one of the cops said. I wasn’t going to move.

One of the Troopers frisked me and found a set of keys and $.10 in my pocket. “Where are the drugs? We know you have them!” I did not say anything.

My “friend”, Special Agent Thundercloud from Army CID, came up to me and said, “We finally caught you. You can make this easy on yourself. Tell us where the drugs are.” Again, I said nothing.

I was so furious. I lost all my drugs and money. I couldn’t believe they caught me. This was not happening. My head was not super clear because I had taken “X”. Was this for real?

They slapped a pair of hand cuffs on me and shoved me into a State Patrol Car.

I was out of Army jurisdiction and so I would be arrested and confined locally. Special Agent Thunderbolt said he would come get me tomorrow when the State Troopers would turn me over to the Army.

As I sat in the car, I said nothing. I still felt like I was dreaming.

Why did I put all the drugs in baggies?

Was this the end?

Overdosed

Overdosed

Overdosed

Overdosed.

I was standing in a bathroom staring at myself in the mirror as I began to come out of a fog from the night before. I did not know where I was or how I got there.

I did not know whose clothes I had on and why they were not men’s clothes.

One side of my face hurt and it looked like someone had dragged it across cement.

The bathroom looked as if someone had had a fight in there.

Turning around, I walked through the door. Because it was early morning, there were people lying around all over the place sleeping. I searched around trying to find someone that I recognized.

I finally stumbled upon Sean and his girlfriend Josie. I woke them up and started asking questions trying to sort out what happened.

From what they told me and what I can piece together, it started out at Club Late Nite in Alexandria.

I usually started consuming after being at the club for a while but on this night before I got there, I smoked a joint with someone.

Once inside I was selling “X” & LSD as usual but taking some earlier than normal.

I had to take more drugs than when I first started months earlier, because the effects wore off faster. Or it could have been paranoia and so I could feel myself coming down all the time.

Later in the evening someone gave me half a bottle of rum. I chugged it. I don’t really think it did anything or if it did, I couldn’t tell because at this point I was up to 17 pills of ecstasy. Any LSD I took got lost in the shuffle.

The rest of what happened came from Sean and Josie because I have no personal recollection of the rest of the night.

I had gone missing for a while and so Sean checked the club restroom.

He found me there trying to pee into one of those long trough-like urinals.

I was so messed up that I should not have been standing. I started to bounce between two large, bearded, red-neck, biker guys trying to relieve themselves next to me.

The two guys started to become verbal and so Sean grabbed me and calmed them down.

He and Josie decided to get me out of there because either I was going to get into trouble, get beat down by someone, or take all the drugs I brought to sell.

I was in no condition to make it back to Jane’s in Leesville, and everyone knew that I specifically said never to take me to a hospital even if I overdosed.

So they asked Chris Holmes, a fellow soldier, if they could take me to his sister’s house there in Alexandria. He asked her, she said it was cool and so we all left.

When they pulled into the driveway and opened the passenger door, I fell straight out of the truck and face-planted on the cement. That explained my face.

They took me inside and not long after that, I started to get sick and vomited all over myself. I’m not sure why they took the time but, Sean and Josie took me into the bathroom to clean me off.

They stripped me down and as they started to put me in the shower, I began to resist.

Grabbing on to everything and anything to keep from going in, I tore a towel rack off the wall.

Eventually submitting, they were able to clean me off in the shower and throw my clothes in the wash.

Borrowing some of Chris’ sisters clothes to cover me up, they dressed me. I do not know how I survived that night…

Meanwhile, my parents still stationed in Germany, never really knew where I was exactly.

Using stolen phone cards, I would periodically call them to let them know I was alive. I even sent a letter from Houston one time but, generally I would be vague as to my whereabouts.

My mother said, “Sometimes I would be woken up during the night with hearing a scream of MOM! Shaken, I would pray for him. That God would protect him, keep him safe, and that he would turn himself in.”

Consumed

Consumed

Lost In A Downward Spiral

I was lost in a downward spiral.

Keeping track of what type of drug I was on and how much I was consuming was becoming increasingly difficult. Depending on what I was purchasing or selling, would be what I would take.

Cocktail

If other dealers wanted to trade types of drugs for what I had, I would do it. Mixing drugs had different effects. The combination of some drugs would make the experience more intense or a confusing shift in and out of each type. Sometimes you would only feel the effect of one of the drugs which wasted taking the other.

Skimming

There were different ways to skim off the top of my supply before selling so I could consume without reducing my sales. The easiest way was with LSD.

It usually came on about a 3″ x 3″ square sheet of card stock type paper that was either sprayed or dipped into the LSD. This paper was perforated to tear off 100 little individual squares. Using gloves was necessary because your skin would absorb the LSD if you touched the paper with your bare hand.

I would take a pair of scissors and cut a sliver of paper off all four sides of the large square and then tear off all the outside pieces placing them into little 1″ x 1″ baggies. Then I would repeat the procedure until I got all the way down to the center of the square.

When finished, the customers never knew the difference and were not affected by the piece that was missing. However, there were enough clippings to equal about 25 hits per sheet. I would split them with whoever helped me or I would take them all.

Sometimes the effects would last for days. It was so bad that when walking around the Galleria Mall in Houston, parents would grab their children and move them to the other side when passing by me. Or random strangers would ask me, “Dude, what are you on?”

Anything Goes

There were dry times when either my supply was out or my suppliers were waiting on something to come in.

There was experimentation with non-traditional drugs just to see what would happen. Crushing up whatever was in Dee’s medicine cabinet and snorting it was one attempt.

No effect other than a massive burning sensation. I tried this with a number of different types of medication.

Scavenging

It was known that as messed up as some people got at Club Numbers, they would often drop some of what they bought and you could just pick it up off the floor.

One evening in an upstairs room that overlooked the dance floor, a friend and I were scouring the carpet for hits of LSD because I found a couple where we were sitting. Since LSD was on pieces of paper, I am sure some of what we picked up and ate was just trash on the floor.

Inhalant

On occasion, Jane and I would buy an aerosol or gas version of lighter fluid called Butane. We would basically inhale the gas.

This created a massive lightheaded buzz with a visual effect of the walls of the room slapping together in front of your eyes in a pulsating manner until the gas wore off. This lasted only about 30 seconds.

Most of the time this was done in the trailer but there were times we would do this while driving to Houston.

After taking a hit we would rush in the center lane between two semi-trucks and watch them slap together as we passed through.

Black out

In Houston, at my friend’s apartment across the street, we were all hanging out in the living room. We were doing coke and ecstasy. At some point, I blacked out.

The next morning I woke up with soreness on my shoulder and it kind of burned. I went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror to see what was wrong.

The reflection revealed that someone had used one of the coke razors, to carve an upside down cross on my back.

Prescriptions

Every once in a while someone would have a drug that was prescribed to them or that they had stolen from a parent. One in particular was Xanax.

I do not know what effect it had on someone that needed it. Probably just makes them feel like everyone else. When I took it, it made me feel like gelatin on the carpet slowly dissolving into nonexistence.

Nonexistence….

down

Lost

Living On Impulse And Stupid Decisions

Impulse

Impulse

Living On Impulse And Stupid Decisions

Drugs clouded my thinking and I lived on impulse and mindless actions. Making stupid decisions and putting myself at risk daily, I did not care about anyone, not even myself.

New Tire

My car had a bubble in the sidewall of the tire that I knew was going to burst. Just as I suspected the tire blew out and I had to put one of those skinny spare tires on to go anywhere.

A couple of friends were visiting from Leesville and were staying at the Houston Holiday Inn. I told them I would pick them up there before we hung out.

While waiting in the parking garage, another Ford Escort pulled into a stall and two men went inside to check in.

As my friends came out of the hotel, I grabbed the tire jack and tire iron out of my car and went to work on the lug nuts and lifting the car with the jack.

After removing the tire I shoved my blown tire and rim under the other car and quickly lowered the jack. As I threw my tools into the car, I noticed the two men coming out of the hotel entrance.

We all quickly jumped in and as I sped out of the garage we did not look back.

Another Tire

Knowing that you usually don’t just replace one tire I figured I needed another one. A friend lived in the apartment complex across the street. She had given me the access code to get in so I didn’t have to call her.

We waited until it was really late and punched in the code to enter the complex. We located another identical vehicle and went straight to work on the tire. We removed it, threw it into my trunk and split before anyone knew we were ever there.

Break and Enter

A girl, two other random people I picked up from the club and I, decided it would be a good idea to break into a house. We left Numbers and drove to a house that the girl had targeted. I believed that the girl had experience doing this type of thing.

We parked across the street and walked up to the chain link fence. Opening the gate, we let the dog out of the yard into the street.

Grabbing the door handle, we pushed the door open.  It was unlocked!

The four of us, filed into the front room of the house. All of a sudden there was a noise and then the darkness was pierced by the blinding light of a flashlight in our faces.

“I called the cops!” was what the resident said as he continued to blind us with the beam.

Immediately we spilled back out the front door and scrambled to my car. As I turned the key, the sound of a siren and the flashing lights of a squad car became visible.

I sped off and the ensuing police vehicle tried to follow me.

I shot down back street after back street turning left and then right until either I confused the police or they just gave up. What was I thinking?

You Want A Ride?

While driving around Houston, I would often see people that looked like they needed a ride.

Leaving club Numbers one night I noticed a girl standing near the curb. I rolled down the window and asked her “You want a ride?”

She jumped in and said she was headed to the same after hours club that I was. As we were on our way, she started chucking stuff out of the window.

“What are you doing?” I asked. She said “I just stole this purse.” I told her to give it to me, and she did. I took her to the club and we parted ways.

When I got home I gave the purse to Dee. I noticed that the driver’s license was for a 21 year old and the picture looked identical to a set of twins back in Leesville. I saved it and gave it to one of the twins the next time I was there.

Three’s A Crowd

In the Galleria Mall parking garage, I noticed two girls sitting on the steps of the entrance. I asked them if they wanted a ride and they said sure, but they needed to get their friend.

After coming back out of the mall, they had a guy with them. He looked angry at the world and a bad feeling came over me.

As we were driving to the guy’s apartment, I was engaged in conversation with the girl in the front seat.

Abruptly, he lurched forward from the back and grabbed the girl around the neck, started choking her and shouted, “I saw you looking at him (me)!”

I reached down and grabbed the tire iron, that I kept near me for just-in-case, and told him to “Chill out and sit back down.” He calmed down until we got near his apartment.

Upon arrival I noticed there were cops everywhere! He ducked down and shouted “Keep going, keep going, they are after me!” I drove down the street a bit, unloaded my passengers and never picked up anyone again…

I Was Pulled Over And Had Warrants

I was pulled over and had warrants

Photo courtesy of Scott Davidson

I was pulled over and had warrants

Another typical evening had me headed to Club Numbers to sell some Ecstasy. It was about a 10 to 15 minute drive to the club from my apartment.

About half way there, I noticed some flashing lights in my rear-view mirror. I was being pulled over. Crap! What was I going to do with the drugs?

 

After pulling over, I quickly shoved the bag of pills down my pants. Not sure why that was such a good idea. One pat down would be all it took.

As the Officer approached my door, I rolled down my window. Some traffic violation occurred but that was not the problem.

I had warrants out for my arrest. Multiple traffic violations over a period of time for no insurance, speeding, etc., but mostly the multiple charges of failure-to-appear-in-court are what caused me to get arrested.

No escape this time. I was headed to the Houston city jail. He told me to get in back of his car, no cuffs though. Thank goodness because I had to figure out a way to dispose of the drugs in my pants.

Running my hand underneath the seat, I felt a space below the cushion. When the officer wasn’t looking, I quickly took out the bag and shoved it under the seat.

Once at the jail, he took me inside for processing. This involved, signing some papers, turning over my personal items and changing into an orange jumpsuit. The next day would be my court date.

Another detainee and I were placed in an elevator and sent up. As soon as the doors closed the other guy unzipped his pants and exposed himself to me.

Horrified, I made sure he knew there was no interest. Longest, short elevator ride ever. This incident made me nervous about what to expect once placed with the other inmates.

My hair was bleached.

My hair was bleached.

The top of my hair was bleached and the sides were shaved off. Not real intimidating. Hearing about how nobody messes with Skin Heads, I pushed all the blonde stuff over to expose the shaved part, hoping that would at least keep people wondering.

They walked me to a large cell, opened the door and then locked me inside. There were two metal picnic tables with benches, and numerous inmates lying all over it trying to find a place to sleep.

I’m not sure what they were all in for but it seemed like from appearances, traffic, drugs, and prostitution. On the wall I spied a payphone and so I headed over to wait in line to use it.

Once it was my turn, I made a call to a soldier friend Sean who was going to be coming up to Houston to hang out with me. I told him that I was stuck in jail and was wondering if he could get my car for me. “Done!” he said.

At this point being a fly on the wall and not draw attention to me was my goal. I fell asleep with one eye open.

The next day appearing before the judge got me a longer stay. One day for each $100 owed in fines. Two days was the sentence.

They immediately sent me to Texas Department of Corrections, Sugarland for the remainder. Each day jobs were handed out and I was selected to go back to the Houston Police Department to clean cop cars. Crazy, considering I left my drugs in one of those cruisers.

The two days I spent in there was pretty uneventful. To my surprise they never found out I was a deserter.

When my time was up, Sean was there to pick me up. We went back to my apartment where Dee had let him stay because he offered to help me out. To celebrate my release, we took a bunch of LSD.

I don’t remember how much but the next morning I woke up in Jane’s trailer in Leesville. My shoes were gone and my car was missing. I had driven the three hour drive between Texas and Louisiana and don’t remember any of it.

The next day, I found my car at an apartment complex about a half a mile away. I must have parked it and walked the rest of the way to the trailer barefoot.

Roller Skating Fiasco

 

Roller Skating

Roller Skating

Roller Skating Fiasco

My life has been one of many embarrassing moments, and fitting in has never been one of my strong suits. I’m ninety-two percent positive that I could give Napoleon Dynamite a run for his money.

Growing up in the 70s and early 80s, roller skating was the coolest thing a kid could do. Unless you were skate challenged as I was. And there was no excuse for my not knowing how because a skating rink was within walking distance from my home.

 

Even with all the hours spent navigating the oval floor, I never seemed to get the hang of it. The desire to be awesome, through mastering the art of roller skating, was there; it just wasn’t working out for me. My middle initial is C, which does not stand for “coordination.”

Upon entering the building, I found the flashy multicolored kaleidoscopic lights, the smell of hot buttery popcorn, and the sweet sound of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” so mesmerizing. Everything they had to offer was there for the taking.

Waiting in line to rent a pair of skates intensified the anticipation. Watching the more experienced kids with all their skill and bravado was too much. I wanted to be just like them with every part of my being, and the employees handing out the skates were taking way too long … .

There were many type of identifiable skate techniques and personalities:

The Skate Ninja — This kid crouched while slicing through the crowded floor in stealth mode, barely brushing by everyone without making a sound or even moving the “Air that I Breathe.”

The Testosteroller — This guy barreled around the rink at warp speed. Nitrous oxide has never been proven to be used in the skates, but small children were sometimes blown out of the rink by the ripple in the space–time continuum.

The Damsel in Distress — She, with her cute really tightly permed hair and huge bangs, just couldn’t seem to figure out this skating thing. She usually would wink or use the pouty lip to get the attention of one of the Testosterollers. This tactic worked like a tractor beam and sent a guy to her “rescue.” With his hands on her waist, he would whisk her around as if he was Superman giving Lois Lane her first personal flight around Metropolis.

The Roller Bully — This guy usually would seek out people with hats or other removable articles of clothing. Once he pulled up beside the kid as if he was in the car race scene from Grease, the Roller Bully would look directly into the victim’s eyes, snatch the loose item, and spin to skate in reverse so as not to break eye contact.

The Wall Clingers —  These people, no matter what you said or did, were NOT going out there! Coming to the skating rink seemed like a good idea, however it just wasn’t going to happen. Maybe next time?

The Most Popular Girl in School — As she gracefully circled the rink as if being pushed across the calm ocean by 100 trained dolphins, her long straight flowing hair would dance across the air currents in sync with the swishing of her skates. And as she passed by, all the mesmerized boys’ heads would slowly turn to follow her every move. You could see their eyes glazing over as scenes from romantic movies played in their heads.

I heard that the power of her beauty was so devastating and the rarity of her gaze so startling that if she actually looked in your direction, the sound of glass breaking could be heard when your heart shattered in your chest.

The What-were-you-thinking-putting-on-those-skates-you-should-have-stayed-home-and-played-Dungeons-and-Dragons-with-your-friends Guy — That would be me. Seeing me skate was like watching a cross between a daddy-long-legs trying to climb a plate glass window and an orangutan trying to break-dance.

So my technique to make it around the rink went like this: left foot—stay on the ground at all times; right foot—use the little rubber circle thingy near the toes to push forward like a skateboarder; hands—whatever it took to keep from falling over.

Momentum seemed to be achievable, but turning and stopping were major problems.

The metal safety rails in place around the rink were there just to keep people like me from plowing into the crowd. The spaces between the rails were the windows of opportunity to stop.

Whenever I would arrive at the opening between the rails, the raised area on the other side would catch my skate, immediately stop all forward motion, and flop me to the floor like a sack of flour.

Thank goodness for carpeting. However embarrassing, my technique was semi-effective.

On one particular day, upon gaining speed with my one-leg method, excitement was building as I successfully leaned just enough to turn the curve without falling or hitting the rails.

In my victorious and enthusiastic “I’m the king of the world” bliss, I failed to notice that I was rushing up to “The Most Popular Girl in School.”

As if she had just been snatched from The Matrix, she stood there in mid-skate, frozen in time. Our inevitable, inescapable collision jarred everything back into motion.

I wrapped myself around her as if I were a spider monkey climbing a tree, and took her down to the floor, twining us into the most awkward human pretzel.

In sheer embarrassment and after profuse apologies, we untangled ourselves. I popped up like a jack-in-the-box, and as fast as the one-leg method would take me, I skated to the opening; splatted on the carpet in a tuck roll; and quickly made it to the boys restroom, where I usually hid during couple skate time.

As the smell of her perfume that still clung to my clothes broke through the usual rancid scent of the boys restroom, I realized that “Hey, I just got a girl to notice me!“

However, despite that particular attraction, I probably never went back to that skating rink again … .

What was one of your most embarrassing moments?

 

 

Close Calls

Close Calls Part One

Close Calls Part One

As you can imagine during this time I had some pretty close calls. Some close calls with drugs and some close calls with the law. I am not sure how I escaped some of the situations I got myself into.

 

Orlando

Before Sal split, he and I met a couple guys at Club Numbers. These guys were cast members at a particular theme park in Orlando. They partied with us and said that they would put us up if we wanted to come down there.

We thought this would be a good idea, taking a shipment of ecstasy down with us. Heading out of Houston towards Orlando we made it to Beaumont TX which was about an hour and fifteen minutes into the trip. As expected on I10, we were following behind a semi, when out of nowhere I saw a huge black thing flying directly towards my face.

An entire tire tread had torn off the semi’s wheel and smashed directly into the driver’s side windshield. Luckily the safety film kept the glass from showering us in the car but we were a little rattled.

The semi driver saw what happened and pulled over as I tried to navigate to the side of the road with no vision.  Once safely off the road, the truck driver came over to the car to check on us. He said he was so sorry and that if there was any way not to call the cops, it would be better for him.

Obviously we thought the same thing.

We were both AWOL soldiers, with a stash of ecstasy and to top it off, I bought the car we were driving in a couple months before I left and then quit paying for it. We were driving a stolen car!

No cops please.

The driver said he drove this route daily and so if we stayed in Beaumont, he would bring a check from his company to pay for the windshield the next day. With nowhere else to go and nothing to do, we got a hotel room, called Jane and a couple of people to meet up with us.

At that point we took a bunch of the “X” and partied until the next morning. As scheduled and on time, the truck driver came through with a check. This paid for the windshield and gas to get back to Houston. This was a bad omen and so going to Orlando was nixed. Besides, we took too much of the “X” to sell it and still make a profit.

Midnight Run

Leaving Houston during the day to go back to Louisiana was a nightmare. The traffic was hideous. Sometimes it would take about 45 minutes to get from one interstate exit to the next.

This was the reason I would leave late at night to take the three hour trip to Leesville.

On one evening, myself and two friends from Louisiana left at midnight. Once again, I was taking a shipment with me only this time it was twelve sheets of LSD. There were about one hundred hits per sheet so 1200 hits of acid. If all of it sold, I would have taken in about $12000.

Right outside the city limits I was pulled over by a Houston cop probably for speeding. He told us to all get out of the car and started to ask a bunch of questions. I’m sure we looked suspicious to him and he had every reason to think that. We were nervous but, I was seriously freaking out.

I didn’t have my driver’s license with me; it was taken from me in Louisiana during another traffic incident. It was to be returned to me after paying a fine from an unpaid ticket I got there. Obviously the stolen car we were in had no insurance on it.

“This was it, I’m going down” was the thought going on in my head. “He’s going to search the car!” I remember praying the “God get me out of this” prayer.

The cop wrote me a ticket and left.

Strange…

Dangerous Parenting Techniques

Parenting

Parenting

Dangerous Parenting Techniques

As a parent, you may have some parenting techniques that you love to share with others.  This post is the opposite of that.

This is what not to do, based on learned experience and having some mishaps along the way.

 

Disclaimer:

 

All of these stunts were performed by a parent with little to no experience.

No children were permanently physically harmed during the events.  (The jury is still out on counseling.)

These techniques are not recommended for anyone.

Last but not least, do not try this at home.

Bedtime Story

If you have been around me for a few seconds you might notice, that if I tip my head even 10 degrees, I will fall asleep.  If I lay down for a second, you will need to a cattle prod to revive me from the netherworld.

When my oldest daughter was about five years old, I laid down with her at bedtime.  The usual bedtime story was read, punctuated with lots of yawns.

Then everything went black.  Having fallen asleep, what happened next was on my watch, however I was not watching.

Wondering why the light was still on and hearing some rustling, my wife came into my daughter’s room to find me passed out.

What she also found was that our little princess had decided to try on all of her shirts.

ALL of them.

It is unclear how she managed to get that many shirts on herself.  It was like looking at an Egyptian mummy from the waist up.  I am not sure how she was moving her arms, or breathing for that matter.

Shoulder Rides

Giving your child a shoulder ride is a rite of passage for both dads and children.  Dads love to do this for two reasons:

First, let’s face it, it makes the child easier to contain.

Second, it makes you feel strong and protective and elevates you to hero status.

My second child at around five years old, (must be the magic number) was riding on my shoulders, not a care in the world.  We were headed into a video store to rent a movie.

As we passed through the door, there was a strange tearing sound.  Wondering what it was, I turned and looked up.

Dangling from the hinged door closer was a long chunk of my daughters beautiful blond hair!

So much for strong and protective.

Luckily it didn’t faze her and when telling her this story, she had no recollection of it.

I wonder what people thought as they walked into the store…

Counter Intuitive

Another incident with my oldest, found us at a different video store one evening (must be the magic place).  After finding the movie I wanted to watch we proceeded to the checkout line.

When it was my turn to pay, I gently and carefully sat my daughter on the counter.

Reaching for my wallet to get my membership card and money, I turned away for just a second.

My daughter must have leaned forward just a little bit, just enough to cause her to slip off the counter.

Next to where we were standing there was a very large gumball machine.  Her head smacked into the beach ball sized glass globe.

She slid down the rest of the machine like a fireman would on a pole.  Relief came over me as I saw that she was okay, until I turned around.

Almost in unison, the entire line of customers behind me were shaking their heads as if saying “bad dad” while glaring at me in embarrassing disgust!

Whoops!

Baby Fingernails

With my third child, we must have perfected our parenting.  There is an eight year gap between her and my second.  Plenty of time to work out all the kinks.

However, when she was just a few months old, I was using the cute little safety nail clippers to clip her razor sharp nails.  You know to protect her from herself.

As she stared into my eyes with love, she didn’t even notice that I had clipped itty bitty chunks out of the tips of her fingers.

She never even cried.  I only knew it happened because her tiny little fingers wouldn’t stop bleeding….

There are more stories like these but I want to hear yours….

 

How has your child survived your parenting blunders?