Hay, guyz.<\/p>\n
That’s kind of an “old-school” Intarwebs thing.<\/p>\n
My wife sent me to a mental asylum. \u00a0You know that, right? \u00a0Yeah, I said that already.<\/p>\n
Well, the latest trip courtesy of my dearest beloved only one was to the Erie County Holding Centre. \u00a0( Yes, it’s spelled like a Canadian would. ) \u00a0I readily admitted my propensity toward self-harm and was rushed into a man-size oven-glove, snapped the Velcro around my shoulders after a brief but poignant threat in the lady’s shower-room from the Eric County sheriffs regarding not “fucking up their shift with a suicide”, and then went on to whatever “const-obs” (constant observation) cell was free. \u00a0It was in a “pod” somewhere. \u00a0Cells around a common room. \u00a0Some fellow\u00a0incarcerate was having a fit and apparently needed a room of his own, so they shuttled me down to some other cell block. \u00a0 Floors, really. \u00a0Named after Greek letters. \u00a0Nobody really gets that here. \u00a0I do. \u00a0Lot of good that does me.<\/p>\n
First night, alone in the four-bed chamber with a Rican dude. \u00a0He speaks Spanish. \u00a0I dunno the difference. \u00a0Seems like a drag queen. \u00a0Probably got one out of a hundred rapes that were not welcome and made it down into this area. \u00a0We’re out of gen-pop. \u00a0Away from the “normal” criminals.<\/p>\n
( I saw him later, when my bestest friends (of the Indian Sub-Continential persuasion) bailed me out. \u00a0“Hey, Santiago! \u00a0Como esta?” )<\/p>\n
The meals are like high school lunch.<\/p>\n
The guards are like high school teachers.<\/p>\n
Some are good.<\/p>\n
Some are very, very bad.<\/p>\n
All resent having to deal with you.<\/p>\n
I can’t really blame them. \u00a0Most of these people are assholes.<\/p>\n
I had an experience. \u00a0There isn’t more but details to spend on relating the story. \u00a0 References to Fiddy-Cent lyrics I don’t understand. \u00a0I acknowledge this. \u00a0He’s cool. \u00a0Good guy. \u00a0All good guys. \u00a0Some doing years for stealing aluminium cans.<\/p>\n
Fuck this country.<\/p>\n
The bull-pen was the worst. \u00a0( At first. )<\/p>\n
Three walls. \u00a0Two rows of seats. \u00a0Varieties of effluvia on the walls you would not care to identify. \u00a0Although, the bondsman number on the bathroom wall scrawled in faeces was a delicious (if you’ll pardon the adjective) touch.<\/p>\n
I eventually sat down, hands on knees. \u00a0Tried not to speak at all. \u00a0Best not to do so when you’re out of your element.<\/p>\n
Everyone was actually pretty cool. \u00a0\u00a0Just don’t pretend to be or know more than you are or do.<\/p>\n
They stole my e-cigs when stripping me down upon entry.<\/p>\n
After the visit with my friends who bailed me, I had to strip naked, squat, and cough.<\/p>\n
Does me wife realize this? \u00a0Does she realize what she forced upon the father of her children?<\/p>\n
The alleged<\/em> crime?<\/p>\n Leaving flowers on her doorstep on the occasion of our twelfth wedding anniversary.<\/p>\n FIFTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS BOND.<\/p>\n Five thousand cash.<\/p>\n Thank you, KP and Manas. \u00a0Both for the money and for the fucking of your weekend.<\/p>\n The judge didn’t look at me once. \u00a0I ask, “Your honor, can’t I be released on my own recognizance? \u00a0I have a job–”<\/p>\n “No.”<\/p>\n Later, I learn the arresting officer lives in the same apartment complex as my wife. \u00a0Coincidence? \u00a0Does it matter?<\/p>\n Reality.<\/p>\n Deal with it.<\/p>\n Don’t be an idiot.<\/p>\n Learn.<\/p>\n Learn that those you once “loved” can turn into monsters.<\/p>\n Learn that there is nobody in this world but yourself and those who prove themselves.<\/p>\n Like my best friends.<\/p>\n Out and to their house forty-eight hours after finding my place in my oven-mitt “smock-block” attire. \u00a0Drinking pizza. \u00a0Watching futbol. \u00a0Being verbally reamed by one of them for being the idiot that I was alleged to have been.<\/p>\n I do have friends.<\/p>\n A week before, my talky-doc mentioned that to feel alive, to feel real, to feel at all, requires interaction. \u00a0I expounded that this, as on the micro level, involves interaction. \u00a0Without the rub-bump of particles, we are cold.<\/p>\n Cold and alone.<\/p>\n I treasure my friends.<\/p>\n I am alive.<\/p>\n I intend to stay that way until my natural end.<\/p>\n So, I treasure my friends.<\/p>\n I’m seeing my girls every week. \u00a0That’s good. \u00a0Fifty dollars per two-hour visit. \u00a0Still less, per week, than I’d spend on eating out and mini-golf or arcades or other entertainment. \u00a0Still, she tweets about getting two hours off a week. \u00a0How about dropping the protection order? \u00a0I’ll take them a day or more.<\/p>\n I love them.<\/p>\n I love only them.<\/p>\n I appreciate many, but I love only them.<\/p>\n My girls.<\/p>\n And they love me.<\/p>\n There was a wife, but she’s dead. \u00a0 Wife killed bride. \u00a0You know the tired analogy.<\/p>\n Do not ever<\/em>\u00a0believe she still loves you, or cares for you, or has any remotely human compassion regarding your fate.<\/p>\n She does not.<\/p>\n Get a lawyer, and let him deal with her.<\/p>\n It’s over.<\/p>\n The women do it more than the men, you know.<\/p>\n Throw away their solid stead for the hopes of reclaiming their youth.<\/p>\n Men? \u00a0Well, for my part, and I’d say for most of us, we “resign” ourselves to being husbands and fathers. \u00a0Men are creatures of duty; women are creatures of whimsy.<\/p>\n In any case, I am free — for the moment.<\/p>\n Skyrim, Pink Floyd, Vodka.<\/p>\n It’s not the life I chose, but it’s the one I’ve got.<\/p>\n And I intend to live it.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Hay, guyz. That’s kind of an “old-school” Intarwebs thing. My wife sent me to a mental asylum. \u00a0You know that, right? \u00a0Yeah, I said that already. Well, the latest trip courtesy of my dearest beloved only one was to the Erie County Holding Centre. \u00a0( Yes, it’s spelled like a Canadian would. ) \u00a0I readily […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[36,38,37,89,31,39],"class_list":["post-322","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-me","tag-cops","tag-existentialism","tag-legal-bullshit","tag-raw","tag-separation","tag-suicide"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/322","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=322"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/322\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":326,"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/322\/revisions\/326"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=322"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=322"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fazigu.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=322"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}