One Helluva Night

I was not a good kid. In fact, I was shipped around during my high school years and eventually wound up living in Madison, Wisconsin after (barely) graduating. It was at that (drug induced, hazy) time when I decided to begin working in the health care industry at an Alzheimer's (crazy old folks) home. The outfit didn't pay well so I began to pad my income (selling drugs) slightly.

The graveyard shift was quiet and I was working (watching television) one night when I heard a strange noise. To my utter surprise, my (fat) managers had crawled through the window of one of the rooms in order to bust me for sleeping (selling weed). Now I have to backtrack a ways. Earlier in the evening, at shift change, I had given a couple of my co-worker friends a couple nuggets. Apparently, my (obese, overfed) overseers had been waiting for hours in an empty room waiting to bust me for my illicit money making schemes. They told me to ("get the fuck out") leave and that the police were on their way to arrest me.

So all in the same (shitty) night I was betrayed by my "friends", fired from my job, and arrested for possession of marijuana and paraphernalia. That instance sticks out in my mind as being an especially (self-induced) bad day.

   
On an entirely separate occasion, I was arrested on State Street on Halloween while dressed as "your fat, intoxicated grandma" and forced to sit in the drunk tank until morning. I remember repeatedly telling police "you can't arrest your fat gramma!". If I can find the pictures I'll post them.