Sunday, February 28, 2010


March 2nd was my first visit to Jail.
I was in the Ninth Grade, stolen car, two 14 year old chicks that would come out their window at 2AM when you knocked, and me driving down a country road smokin' Swisher Sweets and honking the horn at 3AM.
They were wearin' skinny little Halter tops and them cut-off britches and too much mascara and my God were they built for bein' 14.
I was wearing white hip-hugger jeans and a jean jacket 2 sizes to small unbuttoned to expose my 14 year old chest.
Cops pulled us over and took us to Jail; no DL, no ID, we looked like runaways and we had to call our folks to come pick us up.
If I'd have been my Dad, I'd have killed me.
The car?
It was my Aunts. Somehow, I had mananged to have a key made.

I never made the "A" Honor Roll again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What a wonderful story. You had the youth I wish I had. As the Butthole Surfers once pointed out, "It's better to regret the things you have done than the things you've haven't."