Hardened Criminal - part 2 - Self Destruction
I fucked up a lot. SURPRISE! I would get busted for missing curfew, and for association violations all the time. See, when you are on probation you are not allowed to associate with other people on probation or parole. Well, that meant I couldn't be around the dude I was dating at the time. I might have also showed up to my therapist appointment drunk a couple of times - but it's their word against mine ;) See, I wasn't an alcoholic - but I might as well try, right? That's what they thought I was, wouldn't want to let them down. Basically I was self destructing and everything was coming to a head.
13th and Cherry - the Jackson County jail
I knew that address, I knew many people that had been there. I, obviously, hung around the wrong crowd.
I had been to city jail a few times, all just stupid little crap but now I was moving up to the minor leagues and this time I got a uniform. Mine was dark blue. They didn't have any shoes for me so I was given socks and flip flops. Not the flip flops with the strap across the top of the foot, oh fuck no. NO, these were the ones that go between your toes - with fucking tube socks! It was pretty freaking miserable.
I was 17 and the youngest girl in the block. It was night time when they brought me in. They took me to my cell via the large sets of locking doors. You entered into the hexagonal pod and the doors behind you locked, then the door to the cell block would open and you'd enter there as, again, the giant doors behind you slammed loudly and echoed throughout the entire cinder block and metal space.
The cell block was similar to the image above, once inside they took me upstairs and put me in my cell and - again - the doors locked behind me. Only this time I was alone.
The light in the cell stayed on 24 hours a day. The loud sounds of the guards entering and exiting the block throughout the night kept me awake. The cold and emptiness kept me awake. The demons I wrestled with kept me awake. The other people in their cells crying, talking, singing to themselves, it all kept me awake. And when there wasn't any noise, the silence kept me awake.
Here I was, this scrawny girl with super low self esteem and a deer in the headlights look in with all these criminals. I was mortified. Since I was the youngest, and obviously the weakest of the pack in our cell block, I was very lucky to have had a few people take me under their wing. I had no money in my account so I couldn't afford cigarettes or snacks or even stamps and paper. There were a couple of people who would share with me, I was truly grateful for their kindness in a completely different world and social structure than I'd ever been in.
What isn't seen in the image above is the open toilet/shower facilities. I was always too embarrassed to dress out for gym in school - let alone fucking shower in front of someone else. Jesus Christ, I had to now take a shit in front of them too! Fuck that!!! And I didn't - for about 8 days. I was so sick and in so much pain by the time I did it was 10 times more embarrassing than anything I could have imagined.
I learned to play spades and roll my own cigarettes from other peoples tossed out cigarette butts. I learned that maxi pads are the best thing to clean stainless steel toilets and metal mirrors as they do not leave any dust or lint. I learned how to accurately pass notes and cigarettes between our cell block and the one next door. Sadly we had no trained roaches to do it for us.
I learned that county jail wasn't really that bad and the criminals in there were mainly just people that made stupid mistakes like I did - and a few that were really scary and weird.
We made the best of killing time, one day we even made up a rap song giving the majority of us a part and then we performed it one night for the guards before lock down, lol. That was probably the highlight of my time there. I'm certain it looked like something from that classic 1985 blockbuster Rappin' or some shit. It was epic - in my head at least.
(You totally have to watch the trailer for Rappin' - I haven't laughed that hard in a long time!!! There are a lot of people in that film that wish they weren't)
The day finally came for my sentencing. My wrists were handcuffed and shackled to my waist, my ankles were shackled together and I was wearing flipflops with socks.
As they escorted me into the room to talk to the public defender, I tripped out of my flipflop and nearly face planted into the dude. Those damn socks.
Anyway, the public defender and DA agreed to 6 weeks in county with 2 years probation and restitution. Meaning that I would serve my time (I'd been in for 2 weeks already) and then get out and have to pay back all the money and check in with someone once in a while. If I fucked up I would go back and serve the full 2 years. Dude, sure, whatever the fuck you say - just get me the hell out of there!
I go in front of the judge and plead my case. Hey, I'm just a stupid kid making stupid mistakes, right? The judge turns to my grandmother and says, "Mrs. Hobbs, do you have anything to say?"
fuck.
me.
My grandmother stands up and, I swear to God, she says "My daughter is an alcoholic and a drug addict and she's trying to kill us."
ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!!
I wasn't even either of those things! (yet)
The judge throws down his gavel and says 6 months! SIX FREAKING MONTHS! Plus all the other bullshit.
Now, I realize that isn't very long at all, I also realize that in jail time terms that really only equates to about 3-4 months in actual jail - but when we had agreed to 6 weeks, and I'd already done 2 weeks and could have been out in just a couple more - WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WOMAN!
I was defeated. I resigned myself to my situation and tried to make the best of it. I got used to the loud doors banging all night, I got used to sleeping with the lights on and I got really good at playing spades.
There was this one particular sergeant at the jail. He was older, probably late 50s. He had a giant oversized belly and sweated a lot. He was particularly kind to me. Kind, in that really awkward "I expect something in return" kind of way. A way that I was all too familiar with.
This sergeant would come by my cell and give me Snickers bars, cigarettes, one time I even got a piece of pizza. He would sit on the edge of my bed and talk to me. It was very uncomfortable. But, I knew to just keep my cool and play along.
I never returned any favors to him, btw.
Surprisingly, he went to the judge on my behalf. Apparently they were friends, little did I know.
About a week after court my sentence was reversed and I was allowed to go home. Holy shit was I happy as hell!
I returned home and began my probation but, the probation they had me on was completely set up for me to fail.
The rules were:
I had to reside in my parents house
I had to attend school every day (It was my Senior year)
I had to get a job and begin paying restitution
I had to be home by 9pm every night (seriously)
I had to go to a psychologist once a week
I had to see my Probation officer once a week
I had to drop a urine test every week
Again, I was 17. At 17 nobody is home by 9pm! And they would call to check - a lot!!! And, along with all the bullshit appointments to visit all those freaking people AND be home by 9pm how the hell did they expect me to get a job too?
I fucked up a lot. SURPRISE! I would get busted for missing curfew, and for association violations all the time. See, when you are on probation you are not allowed to associate with other people on probation or parole. Well, that meant I couldn't be around the dude I was dating at the time. I might have also showed up to my therapist appointment drunk a couple of times - but it's their word against mine ;) See, I wasn't an alcoholic - but I might as well try, right? That's what they thought I was, wouldn't want to let them down. Basically I was self destructing and everything was coming to a head.
I got picked up for shoplifting at Kmart and my PO decided that that was enough and had me taken back to county. It was "shock time". They'd toss me in there for a week to remind me that it was awful. Which it was, but at the same time, by the 2nd round of shock time it was familiar and I wasn't afraid of it any more. Hell, I now had friends there.
On Christmas night, well, technically the day after Christmas, I was driving home from my boyfriends house. It was 5am, there were patches of ice along 71 highway and I was beyond tired.
I recall flashes of the construction wall on the left side of the road coming at me, I recall rolling for what seemed like an eternity. I remember waking up and realizing that the car was upside down in a ditch. I was wedged between the front and back seats and the radio was on - though I don't remember what song was playing.
I got the passenger side window down and made my way out of the car and just started walking. I recall turning to look at the car and just thinking I needed to walk home.
It all happened between Blue Ridge and the Main Street exit in Grandview, MO, right by our house and the police station. It didn't take long for them all to arrive.
I was in the ambulance and could see out the back of it. My grandfather pulls up in his truck. Gets out and walks over to the car, then gets back in his truck and drives away.
Really?
At the hospital my grandmother comes in and says that my grandfather wanted to come in and see me and I was like "Hell no! He didn't want to see me on the highway or know if I was okay, why the fuck does he care now?"
I spent a few days in the hospital. I had hit my throat on the steering wheel and messed up my neck pretty bad, among all the cuts and bruises and stuff. My little Mustang was totaled, of course.
As soon as I got out though - the shit had hit the fan.
There was no more shock time. My probation had been revoked and I was sent back to jail to serve out my full 2 year sentence.
This time I went in without fear but totally devastated that I would spend two freaking years in there. Everyone else was planning prom and senior pictures and graduating. I'd be over here spit shining a metal toilet. Fucking great.
Stay tuned for Part 3 - The Riot
Hardened Criminal
One night, I see a couple police officers come in, probably to feast on some of that high quality gourmet steak, only they didn't. They went to talk to the manager who then turned and pointed at me. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights standing there with dirty dishes in my hands. They escorted me to an empty banquet room where they placed me under arrest and walked me out in cuffs. My career as a professional slop waitress was crushed in an instant.
Beginning of my junior year. I was rocking a bad perm and an impressive mullet.
When I was in high school things had been really strained at home. I had been acting out - a lot. The previous couple years had seen me go to a foster home and my grandfather looking at a long time in jail - everything happening at home had completely blown up. (another story, of course) But, we were stuck together and we just didn't talk about anything and pretended nothing ever happened. Life went on.
I finally got my own car, a shitty little black VW Rabbit. I put red pinstripes on it and installed a cool new stereo with a cassette player - it was awesome, at least to me it was. I was free to finally get out and explore the world on my own, hook up with friends, and guys, and get into trouble.
My grandparents found out I was dating a black guy. Holy fucking hell - they freaked the fuck out! I never really saw people in colors. It never really occurred to me that they were different or should be treated different, I just saw everyone for who they were - weird, right? In fact, most of my friends were black, didn't matter to me one bit.
I loved art, it was really the only class in school I was good at. I always struggled in classes. By high school I barely made over a C in any class. Thankfully it was the last year before changing the requirements before graduation - even though it didn't matter. I didn't have enough credits to graduate anyway. In the end, I was 1/2 a credit away from being able to. Half a fucking credit. I should have gotten half a credit for self preservation and survival skills at that point.
I didn't ever really realize they were racist until I brought my friend Andrea home after school one day when I was a sophmore. I don't remember the conversation but it was one of shock and surprise. Mainly on my grandfathers part. Of course, my grandmother and Andrea's mom went on to be great friends and my grandfather grew to like Andrea too. It was pretty hard not to though, she was one of those people who had personality for days.
Anyway, even though they accepted Andrea, they absolutely forbid me to date a black guy. So, of course...you know how that goes.
When they found out, they took away my car and sent me to live with my aunt in Michigan for the summer. They even sold my car and bought a new tv, a vcr, and a satellite dish. You know, those gigantic ass monstrosities that they were in the very beginning? Yup - they got one of those. Which really made no sense since they only watched like 5 shows on regular tv, but whatever.
It wasn't long after I got back that I began to fall into my old routine. I started smoking again and hanging out with the wrong people again, and a few right people, who liked to do the wrong things.
It wasn't more than a month into the start of my senior year that shit began imploding (again). I was getting into trouble all the time, having to lie all the time, dating guys who were abusive to me and I was not going to change any of it. So, my parents kicked me out of the house.
I really had no place to go. I was sleeping in the laundry room of some apartments near a park. There were a bank of big storage boxes where people could store laundry baskets and detergent and stuff. A number of them were empty so I would sleep there at night because it was warm and safe. A few times, a good friend of mine would let me sneak into his house during the day after his parents were at work and they were at school. Obviously, school for me was a bit difficult.
I got really good at stealing everything, because I had no money. I had to adapt.
Senior year. I was there at the beginning, got my picture taken. Never did get that Senior portrait session everyone else got to do. I was also there at the end of the year, by court order. Never got a year book, got to watch everyone excited to graduate, excited for the parties, excited for college. I was half a credit away from being able to join them all. God I was stupid.
One night, my friends came and all crawled in different laundry boxes with me. I will never forget that night, it may have been the most meaningful thing anyone had ever done for me at that time. Nobody had ever cared about me that much. But Trish did. She became my family.
She let me move in with her family. Well, her mom let me move in, but it was all because of Trish. She was this super strong, independent, beautiful girl with an attitude that you did not want to fuck with. Man, I admired that. I wanted to be 'tough' but I was so far from it. I was insecure and damaged but I learned a lot from her. She made me strong when I was with her. I was confident for maybe the first time ever.
Since I had no clothes or any of my stuff, I decided to go home and get some things while my grandparents were out. Only one small problem. They had changed the fucking locks on me. THEY CHANGED THE FUCKING LOCKS!
I was pissed. I mean what kind of "Tough Love" bullshit was this?
I decided to break the window in the door to the garage and go in to get stuff. While I was there, I also decided that they owed me a little so I took 3 or 4 of my grandmothers credit cards. Bitch had a master collectors set of credit cards, one for every store that was available. She wouldn't even know they were gone.
You know what happened next.....shopping spree, bitches!
I hit Macys, JC Penny, Dillards. I took my friends to have lunch at the fancy Dillards restaurant, multiple times, I bought everything and anything I remotely liked - and even some shit I didn't. I didn't think twice about anything - fuck them for kicking me out, fuck them for making me the dysfunctional human I was, fuck their bank accounts, just fuck it all. I didn't give two shits about it any more.
I had a great time living with Trish and her family. It was party central in her house, for real. Her mom would spend many nights a week at her boyfriends house so we could basically do whatever the hell we wanted. It was awesome.
Most days I'd take her to school, I'd skip most of the time, and I'd go to the mall and steal shit and come back and sell it in the parking lot after school got out. I was the queen of Swatch watches, Trish and I would have arm fulls of them and sold them for $10 a piece. "Wanna buy a Swatch?"
Shortly after one little stunt, a "Vacation from Carbonation" we called it, I had to move back home. See one day Trish and I woke up and decided to just get in the car and drive. No destination planned, no money in our pockets, just go. And what an adventure it was. I look forward to telling that one, but it's a full post on it's own.
Of course things were tense. I was home as little as possible. I'd go away and stay wherever I could.
Some time passed, I don't remember where I was living or with who, but and I had gotten a job at a Sizzler or some crap-ass place like that. One night, I see a couple police officers come in, probably to feast on some of that high quality gourmet steak, only they didn't. They went to talk to the manager who then turned and pointed at me. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights standing there with dirty dishes in my hands. They escorted me to an empty banquet room where they placed me under arrest and walked me out in cuffs. My career as a professional slop waitress was crushed in an instant.
My past was catching up to me.
The credit cards I had taken the previous year from my grandmother had been reported as stolen. Somehow I guess I had just expected my grandparents to pay for all that crap. Looking back, I was so fucking stupid, of course. But at the time I thought I was doing damage to them, not myself.
I was charged with felony theft and placed in county jail. Now, I had been to many city jails throughout Kansas City, even saw my name in the Grandview jail cell written by an ex-boyfriend. But going to county....fuck. This shit was real and I was scared to death.
They processed me, strip searched me, humiliated me, and finally took me to a cell and locked the door behind me. I damn near pissed myself.
STAY TUNED FOR PART II