The goldfish chronicles, Sarah goes to jail

     Yeah. That’s right. I did some time. This whole time you’ve been reading me you had no idea what a gangster I am. Super hardcore. Tightly braided hair. Teeth of gold. Tear drop tattoos alllllllllll over my damn face.

     Only not really, I’m actually so white you can see my circulatory system, so my hair won’t hold a good braid and the only thing bad in this house is the Helluva dip in the back of my fridge. I keep meaning to throw that away. note to self, chuck that dip. But yeah, I did spend 7 days in county jail when I was 19 or 20, so that part’s super true. Did you know you can go to jail for acting like an asshole? Well….you’re about to.

It all started late one night, my super bestie Joss and I were driving around aimlessly looking for some fuckery to get into. We had made up quite a few games in the span of our friendship, our favorite of which we had affectionately named “cat and mouse”. It’s a driving game which you can play with friends or total strangers if you’d like. In the friend version, you pick one vehicle to be the mouse, and all other vehicles playing are the cats….and you have to follow and imitate anything the “mouse” car does or you lose. We played for dares mostly, like kiss so and so if you lose kind of stuff…but yeah, you would play at night, and depending on the mouse it could get pretty exciting, spinning out on lawns, or racing down the shoulder.  I’m not advising people to play this game. We were and arguable still are a bunch of reckless idiots. Ok, then there is the unknown stranger version, where it’s only Joss and I in one car and we pick a color together. Then when we see that color car go by, we follow them for as long as possible without getting arrested or molested. That night we picked white.  

          A large windowless white van rattled by shortly after we had decided on a color, so we quietly pulled out behind them and followed them into the night. We had started on a main road, but ended up driving on some darkened back roads for over an hour before realizing we were low on gas, and pre-gps/smart phone, we also weren’t quite sure where we were anymore. But, the game must go on, so we ignored the issues at hand and pressed on. Another 30 minutes into the game had gone by, and our gas light was now lit, also, it felt as though the ominous being driving the van had caught on as they had started taking a lot of side streets and being dodgey, When we came up to a gas station, the van pulled in, and we followed. We filled our tank as the driver and his passengers piled out and approached us. It was a swarm of dudes around our age, cute stoner looking types in baggy skater jeans, ripped up tees and a pot fog billowing out of the open van. They seemed wary of us at first for obvious reasons, we’re just a couple of creepy young ladies out for a dangerous night of stalking. Don’t be alarmed, we won’t murder you until after we show you our extensive collection of porcelain doll heads…but after talking for a bit and explaining the “game”, we were all getting along famously so they invited us back to their place…..and naturally we went. 

 
The more of these stories I share the more impressed I am that I’m still alive because all I did thru out my youth was invite myself into the most rapey/murdery type scenarios I could find, or so it is starting to seem.

So we followed these thankfully harmless hippy stoner types back to their apartment in Schenectady, where we were pleasantly surprised to find the coolest apt I have ever seen in my young life. There was a gaggle of young men and one chick whom had rented out a large apartment together. Some of them shared bunk beds, while others had solo rooms. This place had high ceilings, was decently furnished considering the crowd that had rented it, it was incredibly spacious, with tapestries draped everywhere you looked and incense burning at cloud forming levels. My two most favoritist things in this majestic crash pad were, 1. the e-freaking-normous cage they had, with two sugar gliders inside (the first I’d ever seen), and 2. a gargantuan room they had left empty for the sole purpose of having mini raves. It was completely bare outside of a large stereo system and graffiti covered walls that were amaze-balls under the black lights they had strung up. 

I still wish I had a room like that. My cats and I could be doing X and cat nip raging out right meow to some sweet jams. Alas, I’m in my pillow nest….which is the only luxury my apartments square footage can afford. 

 So after our tour, Joss, and we’ll say 5 dudes and one other random chick settled in the living room and smoked a bong together while we played with the sugar gliders, coaxing them to adhere to the tops of the tapestry curtains and then watching with sheer love and joy in our hearts as they softly glided back into their humans outstretched hand. We fed them fruit, and introduced ourselves around the room, as the random hippy chick started getting dressed for a rave she was going to that night. Wide leg pants, crop top and so much candy jewelry I actually got the munchies watching her dress. Some times passes…..And now I had shared a chair with a young man named Rob for about two hours, sitting on his lap, so, you could say –it was getting pretty serious.

      Mister Rob was  rocking a beanie hat and an irritating level of disdain towards from what I could tell, everyone, everything and perhaps just life in general. I thought Rob was hot and a bit of a challenge so being as I was incredibly stoned and pumped up on adrenaline from the nights events and the most majestic sugar glider experience, ever, I got it in my head that I really wanted to get in this dudes jeans. I asked if I could see his room (smooth) but once inside, I closed the door and pulled my top off. He gave me a look, like, he was undecided how he felt about my sudden partial nudity… so I flat-out asked this complete stranger if he wanted to mess around with me. His grumbly response was something in the family of whatever. He was clearly super enamored with this lady right here. “Whatever? Ohhhhhhhhhh man. Let’s do this now or I’m gonna finish before we start with all this sweet talk. Mmmmmm, whatever…((rubs own boob))”       We crawled into his dirty, lumpy bed and I immediately started pummeling this dudes face with my face. I know. Hot, right? I fumbled around with his larger than life pants for a bit before my paws found his man piece. I’m not even gonna talk about the condom situation, because the world will be a happier place for not knowing about that brief and depressing “conversation”. We did the deed. Really fast, not romantically or really well for that matter, in fact, nothing about “it” was memorable in the least outside of the sheer slutitude involved in making it happen. We redressed and silently sat on the edge of his bed for a moment before getting up to rejoin the group. I actually think we were both thinking the same thought while we sat there, which was, should we wait awhile so people think it took longer?  But it was so entirely uncomfortable, the answer had to be no. 

 When I went to find Joss, I wasn’t surprised to find she had also pulled a rando bleachy haired raver into one of the bunk beds for an undoubtedly equally as awkward sexual exchange, although, she seemed to be gone quite a bit longer than I. I picked the sexually incompetent dude in the group….or maybe I was really inept at being a floozy, Meh. Red-hair don’t care.

When Joss and her fling thing emerged, most of the crowd had gone off to bed.  Joss and I weren’t ready to call it a night just yet tho, so Rob the Super Stud,raver fling guy, and Joss all piled in to her Daewoo, with me behind the wheel. I was arbitrarily deemed the least stoned out of the four of us incase you’re wondering why I was piloting. I have no idea where we intended on going that night, but I distinctly remember when I ended up.

We were driving thru Clifton Park, Ny around 2 in the morning on a weeknight. The roads were empty and I took it as an opportunity to blasty blast the music and sway the car from lane to lane keeping with the beat of whatever I was jamming too. Coming up on a well-lit intersection it took me a moment to register the red flashy lights closing in on us.I partially pulled off to the shoulder, popped a mint and tried to look stoic and sober as the cops (yup. multiple) approached. There was a man and a woman officer,whom were apparently working on their good cop/bad cop routine that night. It was something out of a movie. The event went down something like this; 

 
Good Male Cop hangs back a few feet, and Bad Lady Cop comes up to my window, leaning thru the window ever so slightly and examining all of us with her flash light. 

 
Good Male Cop  How is everyone doing tonight? 

 
Collectively mumbled “fine” resonates from the car. 

 
Good male Cop  Do you know why we stopped you? (Without waiting for an answer…) It seemed like you were having some trouble keeping the car in your lane.. 

 
Bad Lady Cop  (Shines flashlight directly into my eye holes and Shouts) You been drinking at all tonight? You guys all coming from a party or something? 

 
Me  Nope. 

 
Bad Lady Cop  Where are you all headed? 

 
Me  I dunno, nowhere really. 

 
Bad Lady Cop  (Still deliberately blinding me) Yeah?? Nowhere??? You look tired, you sure you haven’t had anything to drink tonight? 

 
Me  Um, yeah. Pretty fricken sure. Sure all day.(smug look) 

 
Bad Lady Cop  (Takes a step back) Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle for me? 

 
Me  Yup. I’d super mind. Thanks. 

 
Bad Lady Cop  Oh??? (Diverts her attention for a moment) Is that your bag on the floor there? (gestures towards my glittery purse at Joss’s feet) Would you mind if I took a look in side? (reaches for door handle)

Me  It’s NOT my bag (lies), and I would mind. MmmmK? Thanksssss. (scoffs) 

 
Good Male Cop  If you could just step out of the vehicle, it’ll only take a moment and then hopefully ya’ll can be on your way. 

 
Me  (eyeroll) 

 
Bad Lady Cop  Step out of the car!!!!! 

 
Me  Fine. Whatever. I get out, and lean my back against the drivers side door 

 
Bad Lady Cop  Thank you  (Super pissed off now and resting one hand on her gun) Now I’m going to have you come stand over here (Puts her hand on my shoulder) We’d like for you to walk a line for us. Do you know what a sobriety test is? (Condescending tone) 

 
Me  I dooooo. (snarky tone as I jerk away from her, taking my shoulder back) But I feel like I’m not going to be doing that. Soooooo…… (adjusts my scarf and spits on the ground) 

 OK…..so fast forward, I think you can see where this was headed. She got sick of my ‘tude, rightly so, cuffed me up, read me my rights and tossed me in the back of the squad car. Joss was allowed to go on her merry way with our two new friends, ironically so, because she was way more messed up than I was. Once in the back of the car, I spent the entirety of the ride focusing on not leaning back on my cuffs. Those seats are made of some kind of hard plastic, so they’re super slippery. I was sliding from side to side arching my back as I remembered from previous arrests leaning back means certain death to your wrists. The cuffs will snap tighter, and the people whom just arrested you generally aren’t very concerned with your comfort, so you can forget about getting your hand circulation back until you get to the station. So, yeah…..don’t lean back, or you’re gonna have a bad time. Or really just…don’t be a dick when you get pulled over to begin with, because maybe then you’ll get to go home. Backing up a bit, it’s worth mentioning, I had a pretty sizable amount of Mary in my purse so I kind of had to flat-out refuse the search, and you could forget about a field sobriety test. I was waaaaaaay to shaky to walk a decent line and I can’t do a reverse alphabet stone cold sober, so it’s a safe-bet I can’t do it when I’m flying high either. I totally own this whole ordeal as being my fault. I was deliberately disrespectful, reckless and really just like a grade A douche. I would have arrested me too. But I digress…… 

 I was taken off to see a judge, who found me guilty of being a tool and set my court date for 7 days out, with a $500 bail. Being close to Christmas, I really didn’t have that kind of cash lying around, so high ho-high ho, off to jail I go! First, I was put in a holding cell where they took my bra (Nothing sadder than floppy jail titties), and my clothes in exchange for a super classy orange jumpsuit, a shitty threadbare bed sheet and a plastic pillow. Then it was off to see the county medical examiner. Again I refused any kind of drug testing, but I did go over my mental health history with her briefly. After another stretch of time in holding I was taken off to my cell. It wasn’t what you would think, for you fine up standing no time having been served types. Being as how i have a history of mental illness and refused to do a pee test, I was put in a “special” set of cells. Three adjoining cells, each with no door, encased in this giant unbreakable glass enclosure (The fishbowl). Then, they plopped the whole aquarium’esq shebang squarely in the middle of the “gen-pop” cafeteria/rec room. (Gen-pop = slang for general population, which in prison just references all of the prisoners.)  I immediately went to bed.

      

In the morning, I used my one phone call to call in to work for the week, which leads me to my next fun fact. That one call they give you has a recording that plays before you can speak to whom ever you are calling alerting the person answering that they are receiving a call from XXXX county jail. So yeah, that was an awkward convo with my boss. Calling in too imprisoned to work is a great way to jumpstart a new new career. After my phone call I was returned to my transparent home base where my two cell mates had awoken. I was in the middle cell, the girl on my left was in for selling crushed up sheet rock and marketing it as cocaine, while the girl on my right was in for stalking her therapist. Stalker bitch super loved journals. She wrote multiple letters to her therapist everyday that she was in there, but since she wasn’t allowed to mail them she had stacks of journals filled with super, crazy love letters. And then their was little old me, some slutty stoner wiseass who was in their for a lack of funds and because I don’t know when to shut up.

I spent the next couple days sleeping and starving as I refused to give urine (Altho I did secretly Pee a few times in the dead of night), I deft did NOT poo in my toilet as it was literally in front of everyone and group showering was out of the question. I was filthy and down right sick looking towards the end of my stay.My sheet rock slinging homie had been kind enough to braid my greasy hair for me, which must have been purty sexy as I had attracted multiple butchy looking admirers in gen pop. They would come tap on our little glass house daily, to let me know how good I looked and make some sort of sexual lesbian references I’m still unclear on. Mmmm….if only criminally insane vagina was my thing, I’d have had so many options. Alas, our love wasn’t meant to be. 

On my last day in the fishbowl, I ate a pb & j, and sat with the sheet rocker & crazy eyed journalizer for a few hours before being taken out to the holding area where I could change my clothes and go to court. Right before I was escorted out, journal stalker asked for my address as she wanted to write to me…………….I made up a fake address and slowly walked away trying not to smile at the idea of the WORST PENPAL EVER. I sometimes wondered after that if theirs someone out there in the world with the address I thought I made up, who received bundles of obsessive journals meant for me. 

Joss was waiting for me in the court room, and we exchanged mournful glances at one another while waiting for me to be called up. Never have I been more humbled or polite than I was on this day and  to that judge (the same judge whom damned me to fishbowl purgatory seven days earlier). He seemed content with the new filthy apologetic girl he saw before him, and after some public shaming he set me free. I ran into Joss’s hug, and we quietly cried and embraced while making our way to her car. On the drive home, we laughed at my new hair do, all the street cred I’d earned and the musky ode to Sarah filing the car. She dropped me off at my mothers, where I was still living. I washed my body and went to bed. (Joss had told my mom I was in county, she just didn’t really care, so we didn’t say much about it when I got home. She told me to take a shower, cuz I smelled like shit,  which I did. So, that was that. )

That was my experience with being locked up, although I was arrested a few other times in my lifetime for shop lifting, and random acts of mischief….but this is the only time I ever spent flopping my tits around in a jump suit, holding my poo for record breaking amounts of time, keeping time in a mentally unstable resting area for criminals. Jail hair with a look of quiet desperation as your bowels fill to a painful capacity is a difficult look to pull off, and not one that I wholly recommend. I do feel like if someone could make it look adorable…it was this lady right here. (I’m pointing at myself…so you know.)

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p style=”text-align:center;”>As an aside;

     My first night home, mom woke me up at a really late hour as Joss was on calling. I guess when she dropped me off she didn’t go straight home, instead driving to her exes house as they had taken to banging while I was in the slammer. When she got there, he wouldn’t let her in and when he looked out from his second floor window, Joss could see a thin blonde girl standing behind him. She said, something came over her and she admittedly lost her mind and started screaming from the street, challenging this girl to come down and fight her.

If you’d ever seen Joss you’d know how unintentionally adorable that would be to witness as she is about two feet tall.  

So there she was, crazy eyed on the mean streets of Troy, getting no results from her display, when she realizes blondies car is the one in front of his. Joss starts scanning the curbside trash for weaponry when she spots a metal rod sticking out close by, perhaps from an old mop handle or a curtain rod..? She pulls it out,  jumps up onto the hood of blondies car. Then like the psychotic exe girlfriend of nightmares that she is <3, she jams it dead center thru this chicks windshield. She said she started laugh crying, in like full on crazy-mode and when she turned around the cops were already pulling up.

  They pull her off blondies hood and cuff her, so her ex and his Saturday chick can come downstairs. Joss was taken to jail, as they had pressed charges but her mother came and bailed her out. Hmmph, must be nice! She was just calling to let me know she was arrested too. ..and give me like a virtual fist bump, solidairty. bump. I went back to bed and giggled into my pillow picturing little Joss jumping up onto the hood of someone’s car and breaking thru a windshield hulkamania style. I mean, aren’t those things like really hard to bust thru?? Pretty sure they are. What can I say, random acts of crazy be-still my beating heart. Plus I love that she went out and got herself arrested the same night she picked me up from county. ❤ u 2 gurl.

Moral(s)/lesson(s);

Don’t be a massive slut or do drugs or minimally, maybe don’t drive if you are going to do drugs. Do not, I repeat, do NOT secretly fuck multiple girls at once and lead one, or all of them to believe they’re your one and only, cuz ladies will bust thru a windshield or stab you 67 times in the chest before the cops ever save your sorry a$$. With that many stabby stab stabs I feel like you’d still be finishing up the stabbing as the cops arrived. Just like half halfheartedly pushing thru the exhaustion to eek the blade in a few more times until they peal you off of his cold dead body. Also, if you’re going to try the multiple women thing against my warning, I recommend a second floor apartment.

There are actually many lessons in there somewhere.

Find your own moral ya lazy bitch!

K-byeeeeeeeeeeee