(long boring story)
It was 10 years ago in Perry, Ga that I went to my JC hearing. The PO pretty much had his decision made and pretty much told me so. I had mine made up too. So I went in street clothes and told them to keep it short because I had to go to work soon. It was a summary execution by the triad of judges. Evidence presented against me in my own writing to a friend, the letter having been purloined by my parents before I could mail it, about my first -um- time. The PO was so smug. He had this little grin on his face the whole time.
During the JC meeting, after the case at hand, the PO for some reason started to try and counsel me for the pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror of my car and how they stood for gambling. I just gave him this "F*** you" look and said "they ain't comin' down James". Then I got a little grim just for a moment. I said "you and these other brothers know how for the last five years I've been harassed, gossiped about, unfairly 'marked', lost friends and been basically isolated and pushed towards what I am now. If it ever happens to my brother there WILL be hell to pay". There was just a momentary look of fear in the PO's eyes and his grin did go away. Just for a second or so but I saw it. The other two brothers showed a longer reaction, they knew me a little better than the PO did.
When they sent me outside so they could decide my fate (gag) I calmly smoked a Lucky Strike and when I left a "worldly person" I laid drag all over the KH driveway laughing all the way.
I remember it getting back to me through the grapevine that my stepdad predicted I'd be crawling back ("crawling back" -- his words) within 3 months.
Nope.
Three months later I had a head-on collision with a drunk driver and walked away. Ok, I did let the EMT's take me to the emergency room but all I had was a sore ribcage from the SEATBELT!!!! (I boldfaced that to remind you all to buckle up!) I called mom from the ER to tell her what happened and that I was OK and to thank her for drilling it into me to always wear my seatbelt. Still do to this day.
So I had no car and no job since I delivered pizzas for a living. (I lived with a co-worker by the way) Out of work. The drunk didn't have insurance, so I had to file on my Uninsured Motorist coverage and fight for a month with this particularly hateful nasty b**ch of a claims adjuster who basically said I was at fault because I was driving too fast. I wasn't. Soon enough I threatened lawsuit and said hateful nasty b**ch drove very quickly (too fast, probably) to deliver the check. She did get the last laugh on another claim later on.
While all this was going on, the former manager of the pizza place called me from Atlanta with a job offer. Tom got me on with this vending machine company in Atlanta. I ran a route on I-75 filling the vending machines at the rest areas. I served the ones in Turner and Cook counties, sometimes the ones in Dooly county as well. Now that was a hell of a job let me tell you! In the summertime I could put out as many as 40 cases (Coke products) per rest area per day. That in the awful Georgia heat that was made worse by being at a rest area on the interstate. And no shorts! (damn that! I won't work somewhere that don't let me wear shorts anymore!)
I made friends, bought a motorcycle, rented a nice trailer, and had parties almost every night. The bike? Glad you asked. It was a 1976 Honda CB750E. Kind of an obscure CB model, the "E" designation is for extended front forks. I slapped on some different gears and a set of "ape-hanger" handlebars and had a blast. Even maxed her out one night at 140.
Then I lost the job. My one criminal undertaking and I got caught. Nice little scam, I thought. See our company sold the can drinks for seventy cents apiece. Well I could buy a 12-pack of Coke for under 3 bucks and stock it in the machine and pocket the extra change. A couple at each rest area every day and in a month's time I had a nice little bonus. I'll let you in on something. Coke cans are not untraceable. There's this little code on each can that tells where it came from and my "bonus" cans didn't come from the same source as the ones I got from the company warehouse. But they were pretty nice about it. Paid them a nominal restitution and took a firing deal in which they would not disclose what happened or press charges.
Out of work again, part two follows.
Mike.
Edited by - bendrr on 8 July 2002 21:24:11