This is a part of my life. This isn't a full biography. That would include a bunch of sex, drugs, and life lessons.
Part 3 Intro
Part 3 covers Spring 2005 - February 2014. There are a bunch of life events and struggles. I join the army, I have my reputation assassinated, I learn to thrive on the streets, I begin college, and I start a family. I finally start to recover from what's been happening to me.
Part 3 map
I begin working with my dad as an electrical apprentice. It's a really good job to have. I work 70 hrs a week.
Fight At The Races
Racing. It's Pat's turn to race. He barely works on the cars and I'm still expected to help. Pat racing means I can't. There's extra money from sponsorship and we could've built another car. We're already fielding 5 cars and building/selling others. I just help Pat get his car ready the day before races and call it good.
Crieter is the asshole of the pits. He's always had beef with everyone else. He's a former drag racer and builds his cars like drag cars. He'll dump oodles of money into his engine but completely ignore handling. He's well known for cheating but accuses everyone else if he doesn't win.
He's got a reputation for being a hothead. In one race he was coming around in 1st place for the checkered flag but spins out all by himself. He waits in the infield as my dad who was in 2nd takes a victory lap. As my dad passed by he floored his racecar trying to T-bone my dad. He spins his wheels in the grass throwing up a rooster tail. When his rear tires hit the asphalt he snapped his axles. He has a locked differential which is against the rules otherwise he would've intentionally destroyed our car.
Tonight I'm watching the races from the spectator's stands. Crieter has a teammate that is a rookie and usually becomes lapped traffic. As lapped traffic, he has a habit of checkerboarding the cars behind him if they are in front of crieter. Checker boarding is a tactic where if the car behind you moves up or down the track you shadow, blocking their ability to pass. This is against the rules but he gets away with it by saying "look I don't even have a rearview mirror" after the race. He does this consistently so it's assumed by all racers that he's got a removable mirror.
During the main, my dad is racing Crieter. He's on the inside and they are coming up behind his checker-boarding teammate. My dad times it to pass him early coming out the corner. He gives him a juke. Comes out a little high and slow. When the checker boarder moves high to block him, he cuts low. Checkerboarder seeing my dad's car under him cuts down but loses control. They contact front tires. Checkerboarder bicycles up and into Crieter, who is passing them on the high side. Both of their cars are totaled when they pile into the wall.
I immediately realize that this meant trouble. I walk around to the pits as Crieter's team is trashing our pit stalls dumping our toolboxes while our team is still racing. I make it there right as the race ends and the cars are coming in.
Crieter starts calling my mom a whore and challenging me to a fight outside the pits as I walk up. I take him up on the offer and walk outside the gate. Crieter follows at first but then leaves me waiting.
I'm about to walk back inside the pits when my little brother and his friend walk out. Crieter speeds up with his pickup and hops out threatening Pat with a breaker bar. He doesn't realize I'm there until I walk up and tell him to drop the breaker bar.
He doesn't. Instead, he starts swinging it at my head. I motion to Pat with my eyes to circle behind him, as I dodge his swings. I kick him into Pat. Pat grabs the breaker bar and starts punching him in the face while I grab him from behind. Pat rips the breaker bar from his hands and starts hitting him in the ribs with it. We leave him moaning on the ground.
The cops and an ambulance arrive a little while later. They are going to arrest me until all the witnesses start protesting. The prosecutor considers Crieter's murder attempt a wash because he lost the fight.
Linda Smears Megan
There's a girl that took an interest in me during the county fair. We laugh and have fun. I don't tell her where I live or invite her over. I never invite anybody over ever since Jessica. I know that Linda is that kind of bitch and the few friends who have come over, have only ever been insulted.
Megan comes over and tries to talk to me. I tell her I'm busy and I'll talk to her later. This is enough for Linda to spend the next few days telling everyone that walks through her line at Walmart how much of a whore Megan is, including her mom. Linda gets fired for this.
My uncle Mike is selling his old blue rabbit. Me and dad go up there to pick it up. I think it's a parts car. Nope, my dad keeps on telling me that it's for me when we get there. That I'm going to buy it for $500 from Mike.
I keep saying "no.". I know that Mike is a notorious scammer. If I'm going to spend money on a car I'll spend it on my Camaro, just as soon as dad signs over the title. He keeps wanting me to put money into cars but won't sign over the title.
"Then just drive it home I'll figure out what to do with it".
I drive it home and the transmission goes out a few blocks away.
"You owe Mike $500 for that car"
November Leave to Montana
I can't deal with these people anymore. I decide to leave. I catch a bus to Montana where my mom has taken up residence. She's a student at Great Falls College.
She has a friend that's a psychology major. I'm cooking dinner when she comes over. She starts telling my mom and our neighbor that I'm an entitled white male rapist. She comes into the kitchen telling me about all her allergies and how to accommodate her so she can eat spaghetti. Then goes back into the living room talking about all the ways she can use her degree to tell that I'm a rapist. She talks like I can't hear her on the other side of the wall.
She says she's allergic to olives. I bring out the pot of spaghetti onto the table. She sees me drain the can of olive juice into the pot. Her eyes get wide and her jaw drops. Then goes back to talking like nothing happened. She knows that her allergy is in the spaghetti but is hungry enough to ask for seconds. She then complains that there must've been olives in the spaghetti and leaves. Fat bitch was too hungry to say no to her supposed allergy. She's a hypochondriac.
Join the Army
I decide not to listen to anyone and join the Army. Makes total sense right? The one place I'm going to be forced to listen to people.
I keep having to repeat the blood test. They keep needing a larger and larger sample. Finally, a bowl full of my blood satisfies them.
I realize now that means they were doing genetic testing and getting impossible results. My siblings and nephews have the same problem with genetic testing. They keep asking for another sample saying the results are impossible.
The next day is the ASVAB. I spend the night driving around with Destiny and then drinking. I'm exhausted and hung over but managed to score a 92. I never studied.
I'm asked what MOS I want by the MEPS Commander. "You can have any MOS you want with a score like that".
"How 'bout helicopter pilot?"
My recruiter goes pale and shakes his head.
"You need a college degree for that."
"Then infantry I guess"
That was a total lie. I needed an ASVAB score of 75 to become a helicopter pilot.
Old army basic training is a lot more difficult than new army training. I hear they can't even misgender you nowadays. Can't smoke you for more than 2 hours. Our drill sergeants were known for punching privates during formation. Watched it happen a couple of times.
I wind up in the 2nd Stryker Division in Fort Lewis. I have Sergeant Castro, a 3-time black hat at ranger school, as a platoon Sergeant. The rangers down the road keep telling us how bad they feel for us he was notorious for roping people to his Harley.
I was there when the new army guidelines rolled out. I was there the 1st time someone told sergeant Castro "you can't smoke me for more than 2 hours". The whole platoon got smoked for 5 hours. "So no one gets any funny ideas".
I get smoked regularly "good training". This gets picked up by the other NCOs and I end up getting smoked every day. Usually, it isn't something I've done. Like my roommate refusing to get up in the morning or a teammate topping up on water 5 minutes before pre-inspection, or an NCO not knowing why I'm running between buildings. 'Smoke private brown for any random thing', is what's happening. People start to attribute this smoking to things I must've done wrong. I get smoked extra hard for any tiny imperfection like grime behind and under the toilet tank during an inspection. This is besides the ritualized 3hr + smoke session the day before any PT test. If they miss targeting an area I'll max out that portion of the PT test. Wall sit for an hour the day before a 2-mile run and see how you do.
I've learned since that one of the major issues I was having is failure to bond. I kept making myself an outsider through my behavior. One of the tricks I learned is to mimic facial expressions. This is crucial to make bonding. It creates the perception of a shared experience and reinforces social hierarchy. I become known as a field soldier.
I buy a jeep using my bonus as a down payment. Immediately there are issues. The insurance screws me. The dealership can't keep the paperwork together, then calls my commander blaming me for it. Then the bank starts playing stupid games.
My insurance goes from $125, then to $200, then to $350, then to over $500 in a month. Never been in an accident, no crazy tickets, just price gouging post-sale.
Then the first payment becomes due. It's not taken out of my account so I call my lender up. There's been a mix up they tried charging the wrong account. They have the right information but they charged the account with that number at their bank, not mine. I can just skip this payment and pay next month. Then comes next month and it doesn't come out of my account again. I call them up. This time they tried to charge my account but it was declined. Very strange because there's plenty of money in there. Turns out that since I missed the 1st payment they want a triple payment with a missed payment fee. They won't accept that I called and it was deferred for another month. They want that money, according to the supervisor.
I can't give it back to the dealership who kept bungling the paperwork the whole way through.
I drive the Jeep to the closest Teachers Credit Union Bank and leave it in the parking lot. I bring the keys inside and tell them they can have it. This counts as repossession.
I have 2 months left on my phone contract and now virgin mobile wants a nonnegotiable nonrefundable $250 deposit. My credit score dropped that's how they defend it.
Because of this bull shit, I will never do loans or contracts or dealerships. The world is full of scammers that what to get paid. It's to the point where if a company isn't scamming they are out-competed. Should've kept to that stance but several years later my memory got fuzzy.
Night Land Navigation
Expert Infantry Badge qualifications are coming. Part of the prerequisites is to pass an expert-grade night land navigation course. Only 1 of these exists in the United States. It's a patch of old-growth rainforest out behind Fort Lewis. They've scattered little orange flags across a course, 3 kilometers by 1kilometer. The flags are placed in groups 5 meters apart. They assign a set of points for each soldier to find. These points make a path 1200 to 2000 meters long. It's like geocaching but without GPS, and it's at night in the rainforest during the rainy season. We get a compass, a red lensed flashlight, and a set of directions. We have to translate these directions into compass bearings and pace counts for distance. This is harder than it sounds. You can't just walk in a straight line, there are trees and fallen logs in the way. You can't just count your steps because there's mud and fallen logs. Any small deviation and you're going to end up at the wrong flag because they are 5 meters apart. There's no confirmation you got the right point so it's less than 5 meters deviation across the whole course.
When I line up my friend asks to borrow my pen so he can write down his math. He takes my pen and walks into the Forrest with it. I use a stick to draw out the math in the mud. I have to remember these numbers so I use a mnemonic. I take an imaginary picture with my hands, then dance around it shaking my hand like it's a Polaroid. I pretend to swallow the Polaroid and wipe the drawing from the mud. I'm off into the woods.
I complete my course and run down the roads to the field tent for the best time I can get.
My results are shocking. In the decades that this test has been performed and the hundreds of thousands of people who've taken it, there has never been a 1st time go. I get my name on a records board all by myself. They give me a new nickname "Mud Gods". They want me to give a speech.
"Ah ah ah, you think darkness is your ally, but it betrays you, for it is really mine, you merely adopted the dark, I was born in it, molded by it, Didn't see light until I was nearly a man, THEN IT WAS NOTHING BUT BLINDING!"
Another friend asked if he could use it in a movie.
Qualifying While Getting Hit
I've been on an expert qualification steak. I've been scoring perfectly across several weapons platforms for the last year. It's time for me to qualify expert again with the M16.
I don't have an M16 assigned to me. Before becoming a STRYKER driver they had me using an M-249 SAW. I have to borrow someone else's. Since I can't zero the weapon to me, I want one from a person who has the same shooting stance as me. We're all shooting prone but I like to line myself up directly behind the weapon. We can draw an imaginary line following the barrel to my head down my back then down my right leg. I try to get behind the gun rifle as much as possible. It's a habit from needing to control machine guns. I try to keep the elements of all my shooting stances for all the weapons as similar as possible. I also have slight astigmatism. It's not enough to require glasses. I can still see the green target on a green background at 300 yards. But it is enough to cause a post instead of a dot through the ACOG sights.
Sergeant Sterling is watching. He legitimately hates me. There's no reason for him not to like me, he just chose me to hate on. Because and only because I'm happy with the 1st 3 rifles offered, I have to use the 4th. This one is from a guy with a completely different stance. His legs are off to the side like a Frenchman. His rifle has an ACOG. It takes me a while to adjust but eventually I shoot expert, while Sergeant Sterling is kicking and screaming at me while I'm shooting. Broke my perfect streak.
Expert Infantry Badge testing is here. There are 3 days of testing and we have nearly every private in our company participating. There are a few new guys that aren't up to speed. We have practiced for 2 months to perform all the tests identically.
At the beginning of day 3, we have 2 people that aren't true blue. True blue is never having to retake a test. You get 3 retakes through all 3 days and can't double no-go.
We're at the field card test when SHTF. We all get failed. They won't tell us why our group of 12 failed. We look through our field cards for what could be wrong. They're all perfect. Rather than send the next group through just to fail, we change the only possible thing. They want an arrow instead of a surveyor's mark to indicate north. They fail as well. We call over the cornel. They messed up. They wanted magnetic north, not polar north. They are wrong but we get marked as failed still. The remaining groups are passed using the same process of creating a field card.
This causes waves of retaliation. Since 24 of ours got no-goed for doing a test correctly, our NCOs conducting different tests start failing privates for not being identical. It's a standard we practiced for but isn't being as strictly enforced during testing. Not being able to retaliate against us for being in uniform, some privates get no-goed for not having their pen out before walking up to observation testing. Producing a pen isn't part of the instructions but is required for the test. After this, we become comically robotic.
I'm the 1st up at grenades. I set the standard to follow the instructions to letter. It says crawl up to the pill box. There is nothing about walking up to the testing area. From where we are gathered we each crawl without taking a single step. The last part of the last test is to throw a grenade 35 yards into a "trench" 4 inches deep and 6 inches wide. My 1st throw is a swish. This isn't good. A swish will bounce out. Counts as a no-go. The trick is to give the grenade a little bit of backspin and have it land short. It will bounce and then come to rest inside the trench. I give the grenade a little too much backspin and it develops a wobble in the air. It lands on the heel. The heel is where the spoon attaches to the grenade. Landing on the heel sends the grenade on a tumble and it bounces over the trench. Double no-go.
Behind me is the largest streak of true blues in EIB history. We would've had the largest group of EIB passing except for the waves of retaliation causing attrition.
Birthday Fight at Banks Lake
I spend my birthday at banks lake. Me, Trevor, and Kevin rent a campsite. That night we are drinking with the neighboring camp. They're a bunch of tourists.
A woman walks over from another camp and starts talking to us. Within minutes a guy walks up behind me and pours a beer on my head and then starts slapping Trevor. I tackle him to the ground and he immediately starts begging for me to stop and that he is sorry. I tell him he needs to go and let him up. As soon as he's up he tries tackling me. I wrestle him to the ground again.
Now he's crying saying he's so sorry he's mad that he just got dumped by his girlfriend.
"You don't know who you're fucking with!" As I let him up again.
He walks over to a truck head slumped and sobbing loudly. He pulls out a small dog from the truck.
"That's my dog!" The woman says
The guy holds the dog dangling from the leash and collar and starts punching it.
I jog over. He drops the dog and turns to me with his hands ready to fight. I punch him in the nose. His nose smears across his face. Kevin grabs me as he falls to the ground.
The guy curls into a ball then scrambles off saying "you'll be sorry when I'm a cop".
Kevin sees me revved up and wants to fight me. He's an old friend and fighting is a fun thing for us.
The other camp sees us and jumps in trying to break us up, but end up fighting both of us. 2 vs 12 and they lose. Trevor thinks it's funny.
Sanza Orders Porn
I've known Sanza since basic. We don't get along. We don't associate. I see him enjoy being a bully and don't want to be around him. He feels it's his job to push the weak out of the unit. By weak he means who ever he can target. We are always in different groups and have no reason to be around each other.
I keep the NCO holding baracks room for incoming NCOs while they find an apartment. Pascal makes friends with Sanza. Pascal also hooks up satalites tv to our room via his TV. I don't watch much TV and have very little interest in it.
I leave to banks lake for my birthday and come back to find the room a mess. Pascal just got back and is pissed. He thinks I ordered several hundred dollars in porn over the weekend.
"I've been 300 miles away"
"It had to be you"
"I don't even have the code. Did you give someone a key to the room?"
"Sanza would never have done this"
Of course Sanza denies it and says it had to be me, but I've been hundreds of miles away and don't know the code.
Officer Puppy Puncher
Ticket at Park Lake
About a month later I get pulled over at the state park. We've been loud and obnoxious. A group of tourists threw glass bottles into the lake and broke them where children play. We get mad at them and it turns into a shouting match. I assume that's what it's about. Out of the car walks Mr dog puncher.
He starts accusing me of drinking and driving. Claims he can smell beer in the car and on my breath. None of us have been drinking and there's no beer in the car. He then starts claiming I wasn't wearing my seat belt. "I don't have my ticket book on me but you'll get it in the mail," he says with a sneer.
When I get the ticket in the mail it's for doing 40 in a 25. I challenge it in court. He claims to have caught me on radar from the rangers station and that I refused to pull over for a long distance. There are some problems with this. If he was at the ranger station and I drove by at 40 then he'd have to be doing 180 through the park if I pulled over immediately. I go 20 through that area because there are kids constantly crossing the road. If I was doing 20 then he'd only have to average 90.
He eventually gets fired as a park ranger that summer for harassing park patrons. It was the teenage girls that kept complaining. This somehow made him an excellent fit for the Ephrata police department. People for some reason think that only the most amazing people become cops. The reality is that anyone who can pass a 3-month course with low requirements can be. Police departments will hire anyone. Once a cop all other cops will cover for them. The bad cops push the good cops out. There are a few good cops and they know this.
I'm asked to go to the bar. A few of my friends want to help patch things up between me, Sergeant Sterling, and private Sanza. We go to the Ram.
At the Ram are the shadow burqa lady and a friend of hers. Her friend seems very familiar but I can't quite place it. They say they are heiresses and mortgage sales representatives. We are invited back to their place for a few drinks.
Sanza and Sergeant Sterling get super weird and now everyone sees why I don't get along with them. We never want to hang out with Sterling and Sanza again.
It's been over 18 months since the 1st wave of privates in our unit came into the army. With an E4 waiver, a private 1st class can become a specialist after 18 months. Our unit's 1st batch of E4 waivers comes down the pipe. 1 private from each platoon.
Lane gets the 1st waiver. He deserves it. He's a natural leader and has been exceptionally well trained his whole life. I'm the only person in my battalion that hasn't been to military school. Lane graduated at the top of his class and placed 1st among a group of military schools. Lanes probably going to be a general someday. He plans to do exactly that by using the green to gold program.
Being his friend I buy alcohol for the party this weekend to celebrate. Sanza finds out and knows he's specifically not allowed in my room. He takes offense to not being able to attend the center of the planned party for Lane. He tells Sergeant sterling.
There's now a surprise barracks inspection. Even the commander knows about the party and specifically excludes my room from the inspection. Sergeant Sterling ignores this and beelines straight to my room. They find a case of beer and a bottle of vodka. We are only allowed either 1 bottle or 1 case. He reports this to the Colonel knowing our Commander would look past this. I get extra duty and mandatory alcohol counseling.
I get off extra duty in time for leave and go to the warped tour. I have a campsite at the campground with a cooler full of beer. Everyone has brought a bunch of liquor. Someone trades a bottle for 6 beers. I start feeling really good and get into wrestling matches. I have a lot of energy for being drunk when someone offers to exchange me Adderall for a beer.
"No thank you, you can just have a beer"
"No, no I insist" and shoved the pills into my hand. I put them in my pocket and forget about them as I slip into an energetic black-out drunkenness.
I piss dirty when I get back to base. There's amphetamine in my system. I get more extra duty, and drug and alcohol counseling.
While talking to councilors I decide I don't want to be in the army anymore. What's the fucking point? I've just learned from NCOs being forced to re-up their contracts about army retention practices. If at the end of my contract I don't re-up, I'll be called up from reserves to babysit full-grown men.
This is why all the Drill Sergeants are so pissed. They tried to get out after their contracts. This is why so many of the NCOs have had several training roles. The army will give elite soldiers hell jobs as "reserves" until they re-up their contract.
Without the carrot of being able to get out with an honorable discharge when my contract is up, and having been lied to, and having to put up with the constant bullshit; I want out.
They give me an under honorable conditions discharge.
Going Back to Ephrata
I'm comfortable going back to Ephrata. I think since I've changed so have they. That maybe it was how I held and conducted myself. Wrong! It just picked up where it left off. It's just like leaving an abusive relationship. They'll act like everything's changed until you come back, then it's back to how it was right before you left. People who don't respect you won't start because you believe them. Overnight I went from the kid that's made an amazing turnaround to that lazy piece of shit, even though it's far from any reality. They went gag-gift shopping for me for Christmas and only bought a bunch of gag-gifts. Things like a shirt that says "hard work never hurt anyone, but I won't risk it".
Linda Has Me Fired
I immediately found a job through a temp service within a week. I've been working there for a month. Weyerhaeuser was getting ready to buy my contract. I catch the flu. I call in the night before and tell Mark that I won't be able to drive him to work in the morning.
Linda calls up the temp service and tells them that I've been out drinking all night "He's faking the flu to nurse a hangover."
Stuck In The Snow
I'm bored as hell. I ask Mark if I can borrow his car for a couple of day trip to the city. I want to go to a club. He says yes and Trevor decides to come with.
I head to Wenatchee but we decide that this isn't the best place. I think we should go to the UW district. We head across the pass. The pass is snowed in and it's night. The long train of cars is going about 20. There's no opportunity to pass because there's a train of cars in the opposite lane. The car behind me is right on my bumper. The cars ahead of me brake suddenly. To avoid the guy behind me from sliding into us I turn the car into the ditch. He goes sliding past me and 2 other cars with his brakes locked up before he also goes into the ditch. We spend the night helping people out of the ditch. No one hangs around to help others once they're out of the ditch, even if they promise; bunch of city folk. Me and Trevor spend the night in the car until the pass reopens in the morning. A truck comes and gives us a little tug.
Trevor knows some girls on the coast and thinks it's a great idea to bring them to the UW district as well. We don't end up going to the UW district. We go hiking almost to some hot springs. the girls got tired and wanted to head home once it was found out that they had been filled in years ago. The government didn't like people skinny dipping miles into a wilderness.
We get back to the car and start to drive out. It suddenly starts making weird noises. The serpentine belt seared off because the previous owner installed the tensioner pulley backward. We are stuck for the night but Mark is going to head over in another car to help us in the morning.
Trevor shares the back cargo area of the station wagon with Tami. She's blonde and a freshman in college. She used to date my little brother but I never really met her. They make a bunch of slurping sounds back there.
I'm in the back seat with an emo goth chick. She's very interested. She keeps leaning in with our noses inches apart. She fails my 3 automatic rejections. She's all scared up from several suicide attempts. I keep turning the other way. I try to crawl to the front seat and sleep there. She can have the blanket and the whole back seat all to herself. She asks me not to. She'll get cold and she promises just to let me sleep.
She starts wiggling her but into my crotch and putting my hands on her breasts saying "no, no, no".
"I'm going to sleep up front"
"I just want you"
"Nothing's going to happen, I'm sleeping up front."
This chick is broken.
The next day mark shows up. He brings Kevin with him. The emo chick is his ex-girlfriend. We get the car fixed then drive them back. Kevin fucks the emo chick while we have breakfast.
We leave and on the way back everyone is mad at me. The emo chick claimed I tried to rape her. It's when we talk to Kevin that we learn that she makes these claims a lot and it's a fantasy of hers. Trevor and Tami both heard me saying I was going to sit up front and her asking me not to. They were a foot away. She can't deal with rejection. Things like this are why I have the 3 automatic rejections.
Skaug Brothers Glass
My dad has some friends that are hiring. Skuag Brothers Glass. Their mom's a bitch whatever doesn't mean anything about them, right? My supervisor has a twin that's dating a friend of mine Rebecca. These guys are complete douchebags, 0 wonder why no one wants to work with them. The job is to cut custom glass, make window screens, repair/replace car windshields, and general work around the shop.
Second day I'm asked to disassemble a hydraulic manifold with a screwdriver.
"This is pressure fit together. It's going to break stuff even trying."
"JUST FUCKING do what I tell you!"
I spend the next half hour prying at it with a screwdriver, I bend and mar up the part that's going to need replacing anyway.
"What a fucking idiot. That's machine pressed." My supervisor says "look at what he's done to it!"
"Good thing you didn't destroy it," Skaug says "What a fucking s***"
This is when I should've left. I've been conditioned my whole life to take abuse. When people start off like this it gets worse quickly and just hurts my reputation even being around them.
Over the next month, my supervisor sabotaged my work, claimed my work as his own, blamed me for all his mistakes, and complained that I managed to clean up the place during my downtime. "What fucking n***** didn't hire a janitor."
Then the final straw finally happened. I was asked to change the oil in the diesel. I point out that it has a centripetal filter that burns bad oil. All they have to do is top it off.
"You mean you don't know how to?"
"I'll show you"
He shows me the drain plugs and secondary filters.
I drain the oil and replace the filter.
There are only 4 quarts of oil on the shelf in the storage area.
"How much oil do I need to put in? There are only 4 quarts."
"However much you took out"
I've been letting the oil drain. And go back to replace the drain plug and put the 4 quarts in.
"Here let me do it," my supervisor says taking the wrench and putting on the drain plug. "You put the oil in"
When we're done I go back to work.
"What kind of idiot only puts 4 quarts of oil in a diesel?"
I get fired for incompetence.
I hear later that they blame me for the drain plug not being tightened and the truck leaving a trail of oil.
Jones Pulls Blue Rabbit Over
Me and my friends are hanging out at Deep Lake. It's the shadow burqa lady again. She's there with Violet and Micheal.
I've seen Micheal before. He's never managed to make a good impression. The closest he got was showing me a magic trick but not realizing I have a sharp eye. I told him he needed to put a performance together that doesn't rely on 'hey look at this cool trick' while he focuses quietly. There's nothing to distract me from the mechanics of the trick. If there's some miss leading pretense then it's more fun to work out and has a better chance of stumping me.
Instead, he calls me a liar and that I must've already known how the trick was performed. I had never seen David Copperfield's card through a balloon trick. He performed it sloppy.
Me, him, and Pat are walking back to the cliffs toward the girls when we see a snake.
I call it out. "Oh, it's a harmless garter snake."
Micheal picks up a rock and throws it. It snaps the snake's back and it starts writhing. Micheal runs up the trail.
Me and Pat pick up rocks and finish the snake. It'll just have a long agonizing death.
Micheal comes back down the trail. "They're killing a harmless snake. There being cruel to animals!"
"You broke the snakes back with the rock you threw"
"No, I didn't." He turns to the shadow burqa lady and violet "who are you going to believe me or them?"
Violet was unconvinced by him "he tries that shit with me too".
The shadow burqa lady was quiet.
I give them a ride back into town. I come to a stop at an empty intersection. "Which way?". I'm pointed to the left.
The speed limit on the highway is 55 but slows to 40 shortly. Not worth accelerating to 55 just slow down to 40 once I get there. I see the cop pull up behind me and keep my speed to 38. He turns on his lights and pulls us over.
"Do you know how fast you were going?"
"I meant you were suspicious back at the intersection." He says flatly "license, insurance, and registration."
I hand him all 3 "is this a legal stop?"
"There's a city ordinance that young women need to be in the presence of an older adult."
"That's not legal" all the girls were over 18 anyway.
"I'm going to need them to step out, I'll be taking them home"
"That's not an option" I turn to the girls "call your parents"
"I'm already calling 911," says Violet.
"I was just... I mean..." Officer Jones turns and runs to his car then speeds off.
I drive a couple more blocks turn them a couple blocks more. They ask to be let out next door to Chad.
Harassed By Police
I start being harassed by police. They keep pulling me over for "not wearing a seatbelt", even though I'm wearing a seatbelt. They give me no proof of insurance tickets even though I keep handing them valid proof of insurance.
I get pulled over in Mark's new car. He's too drunk to drive home. The puppy puncher writes me a ticket because his registration isn't up to date.
I challenge all of these and haven't heard back from the court. I get pulled over in Moses lake. Patrick's friend closed the trunk leaving his shirt hanging over the license plate. This is when I learn that my license has been suspended for being a habitual offender. I got pulled over 6 times in Ephrata in 2 months. Not including Jones in Lakeview.
My dad won't let me borrow the car he is telling me I still owe uncle Mike for. "There's no excuse" and he's not going to take the risk now that my license is suspended. I have to get a ride from him to work every morning. 2 weeks in he's not going to do it anymore, with 0 notice. I leave a few hundred dollars in tools at the construction site unable to retrieve them.
He keeps wanting me to fix up cars that he owns and won't hand over the title. He keeps saying Camaro is mine. Also, buying other cars saying they're mine and I should fix them up. A trans am from a tweaker is added to the list.
I can't take this anymore.
I meet Mat goodnight through Kevin. I move in with Matt paying him $100 per month to sleep on his couch. I give him $500.
The house is a literal shit hole. There's a dog that shits and pisses all over the floor. The kitchen is covered in rotting food. There is a back room. "That was my parent's room, no one is allowed in there". His parents dies a few years ago and left him the small house.
You'd think he'd use the money to pay the water bill, but no. He spends it taking his girlfriend out to diners.
It feels like I've died and gone to hell.
Kurt Oxos moves into the back room for guess what? $100 a month. I don't like Kurt. He's an asshole who gets jealous and tries to fight me when his girlfriend writes about me in her diary.
He starts talking in front of me about the people he's stealing from and his plans to rob more people.
I need to find a new place to live. It's a total of 3 weeks later that I move to East Wenatchee with my mom and Corwin. I go around telling people like his dad that he's stealing from them and warn the people he's said he's going to rob. On Thanksgiving, I get arrested.
Kurt Oxos has named me as his accomplice in arson and burglary. The dates they are claiming I committed crimes aren't random to me. I was at a party on both days. One was the day before Halloween and the other is Mark's birthday. I have solid alibis with dozens of witnesses and a bunch of evidence including bank records. I paid with my debit card. I didn't tell Kurt where I was or what I was doing, ever.
They gave Kurt a waiver of extradition to Arizona despite his long criminal history. He immediately skipped a small misdemeanor bail. Corwin bails me out.
I'm being turned into a local pariah and can't get a job. I decide to hitchhike to LA for a few months until my next court date.
I don't have asthma but as soon I got in la I felt like I did. The smog is thick that winter.
I try hitchhiking out but none will stop for me. After a few days of trying I give up. I catch the local transport to the extreme eastern end. I still can't get a ride. I try hopping on a train headed out of town. It takes me to Compton. I use the last of my money for a bus ride downtown.
I'm sleeping along a street with cardboard boxes laid out. There is a couple of block of homeless people sleeping in cardboard boxes. This is called skid row and it's just off of Union Ave.
It's night and I hear a struggle. A woman is screaming. Men stand over her threatening her with machetes.
I stand up and start walking over as they pull on her legs.
"Who's that!" they turn to me menacingly.
I don't say anything. I reach behind me and walk fast. Pure bluff, I have a small pocket knife.
They turn and run away.
"They were going to rape me!" Sobs the street lady. "Thank you, I thought no one was going to help."
"Not the type to just let that stuff happen"
"Want to thank you, stay here and I'll be back with some crack".
I find a homeless shelter not too far away with directions from other homeless people. I've never been to a shelter before. We don't have them where I'm from. If you don't have a place to stay you're simply fucked. I've never even heard of such places before.
They have a long waitlist for a bed, but I can use the day shelter for lunch and a shower.
As I'm brushing my teeth a big black man is soaping himself up butt ass naked in the far mirror. I see all kinds of very strange things every day. A crazy dude bird bathing in a strange way doesn't register on my threat radar.
Without saying a word he charges me, tackling me to the ground. I armbar him as he starts trying to pound me. I'm immediately pulled off of him by other homeless people.
He's mad and embarrassed. He just lost a fight with the white boy in the day shelter. I'm told he's a high-level soldier in the Bloods street gang. That I "better get running and don't stop."
I spend the rest of the day being chased by groups of men on foot who scramble in and out of groups of cars speeding around. Hunting me seems to be their fun for the day.
Gross Judicial Irregularities
I take a bus back to Ephrata. They are showing a poorly doctored photo of me on the news. Pasted behind me is a picture of a burning church. This is such a bad photoshop job. My picture is only illuminated by a camera flash. Behind me is a building consumed in flames. There is no light from the inferno touching me. This photo is from the Grant County Sheriff's Office.
I have court every other week. One week will have my name and a court date in the newspapers. The other will have a story with interviews with the Deputy Prosecutor lieing about a large amount of evidence they have against me.
Deputy Prosecutor Chin visits a 3rd party witness at the cafe he works at during the lunch rush. In front of a crowd of customers, he starts threatening him if he testifies. The guy is a Red Cross volunteer and the prosecutor threatens to destroy his reputation around town if he says anything helpful to my case.
Mat Goodnight has suddenly joined the army and won't be a witness. He claimed to have a chance sighting of me.
The detectives have shoe prints in the mud. Kurt Oxos's have a pen for comparison. The second set had comparison photos but the evidence room lost them. I wear a size 11, Mat wears a size 9; too bad evidence disappears.
They recover a storage shed full of stolen items. They check every little bit of it for my fingerprints. Nothing.
Kurt Oxos is picked up for armed robbery and assaulting the elderly in Arizona and won't be returning to Washington. He has a long criminal record and will be receiving a long sentence.
The prosecution has no witnesses and no evidence. I have witnesses and evidence supporting my alibi. The court doesn't drop the charges.
If they dismiss the case it's a judgment and I can appeal a judgment. Due to the gross judicial irregularities, I could sue the dog shit of them after an appeal.
Judge Brown defers the case until the end of the statute of limitations due to lack of evidence. This isn't a judgment so I can't appeal it. For the next 10 years, arson and burglary will appear on my background check. At the bottom in the fine print where it says status it's left blank, instead of saying convicted.
I won't be able to get a decent job and any place to stay will be extremely difficult to find. They have destroyed my life knowing that I'm innocent to save their careers as corrupt politicians. The doctored photo pops in and out of existence as politically convenient. My reputation has been destroyed. Everyone has heard, read, and seen the rumors, newspaper, and broadcasts.
I'm told that the preacher moved to Florida after receiving the insurance money.
I get a job as a baker. I start work at 3 am. I'm expected to join a union with all the benefits starting after 30 hours a week. The only people allowed to work over 30 hours a week are the manager and assistant manager. I'm expected to pay dues to earn minimum wage with no benefits or union protection. This is called a dovetail union. I don't work there long. In a month when the manager gets around to doing a background check, I'm fired.
Leavenworth is a tourist town up in the mountains. There's world-class skiing and ice climbing in the winter. During the summer there's white water rafting, rock climbing, and mountain biking. They have Bavarian architecture city ordinance in their business district. You might notice it as that specific Christmas town.
It's Oktoberfest, one of their biggest town parties. I'm drinking at a karaoke bar. The shadow burqa lady and Violet sit across from me, Patrick, and his friend Patrick Ruffin. We start drinking heavily and singing. I feel terrified and attracted to the shadow burqa lady and her friend Violet. We end up walking them back to their hotel room as the bars close. Shadow Burqa lady is very interested in me and we hold hands all the way back. Patrick Ruffin is interested in Violet but she keeps ignoring him. It's becoming clear to everyone even Ruffin that she's not interested. I'm invited into the hotel room and the Pat's enter too.
"Just Richard" is ignored.
"They're drunk. I'll make sure they find their way back home." I say staring into the shadow burqa lady's eyes.
We learn closer and closer, her arms wrapped around my neck.
Suddenly Violet goes flying onto the bed, interrupting us.
"Fucking asshole pushed me!"
"No, I didn't!" Ruffin says.
"You need to leave," Caro says turning to the Patricks. She looks at me "meet me for brunch tomorrow. Don't bring them."
We leave and don't say much on the walk home.
The next day they want to go to brunch with me.
"No, only I'm invited. You guys do something else"
"No, we're coming"
"Don't fucking follow me, you're not invited" and I leave.
I get to the pub and sit at our table and we order bloody Marys for our hangovers.
The Patricks walk in and sit at our table.
"I told you not to bring them."
"I told them not to follow me"
"We need to talk about last night," Ruffin says.
"We don't need to talk about anything," says Violet, "I told you no and you threw me on the bed"
"No I didn't," says Ruffin. After a period of silence. "Who are you going to believe? Some girls you just met or me. You've known me for years."
"Wrong argument," I tell Ruffin.
"Bros before hoes" Ruffin turns looking at Patrick.
Our drinks arrive and as we take our 1st sips Micheal walks in through the back door. Patrick Ruffin waves him over to our table. Micheal pulls a chair from another table and sits next to Violet. She jumps in her seat and squirms.
"Don't pinch me!"
"I didn't" Micheal claims
"She's saying I threw her on a bed last night"
"She's always making stuff up like that about me too."
Shadow Burqa lady pulls out a handful of bills and put them on the table. "Next time don't bring them"
Violetta and the shadow Burqa lady abruptly walk out the door.
Once the girls are gone Micheal and the Patricks leave out the back door together smiling like mission accomplished.
I've been staying with Corwin. I've been doing chores and paying $150 a month in rent. I keep everything clean. I work and on the days I don't work I try to find a better job.
Corwin is growing increasingly hostile towards me. I have to stay out of the house from 9 am to 5 pm so he can work in his office. Not because I'm loud but because he finds my presence insufferable while he works. This changes to 7 am. Then he and my mom start going to the bar at 4:30 and not getting back until 10 or later. A simple solution would be to give me a key. Corwin doesn't trust me enough because I've been in the military. "Everyone who joins the military is a psychopath."
Corwin also has other particular views. "Poor people are poor because they're a combination of dirty, stupid, lazy, and mean. Maybe not all three". This is how he explains his success. Not that he was born Rich and inherited a bunch of money he used to start his business. That they supported him while he went through college. That he then struggled through labor-intensive jobs until his inheritance came.
He makes absurd claims about his work ethic "I carried 5 shingle bundles at a time up a ladder, as roofer 8 hrs a day. That's all I did 8 hours not 1 or 4!". This is not possible. Humans just can't physically do this, much less him. He's grotesquely obese, managing to get into the best shape of his life in his 60s. He's down from a few hundred pounds at 5'7".
He did grow up on Whidbey Island, the favorite son of a very well-to-do engineer.
He mentally struggles to deal with me. I'm very clearly not dirty, dumb, lazy, or mean. He starts knit picking anything he can for me to be one of these. A winkle on the bed I make every morning when I get up, footprints on the hardwood floor if you look at just the right angle, dishes in the sink for even gathering. He's having problems with cognitive dissonance and it's aggravating his OCD.
Does he want to call me dirty? I go G.I. on him. There isn't a spec of dust in the house except in his room and office. You could use 1 q-tip to inspect every surface. Nothing is out of place, ever. I wipe up the floor behind me so I don't leave footprints and remove everyone else's.
After about a week of this Corwin, volunteers to put away the dishes.
The next day he finds that he misplaced a spoon. The handle is crossed over onto the forks in the drawer. He rips the kitchen apart in a tantrum. He charges over to me. "You bitch. You're such a fucking bitch. Do something about it bitch boy!"
He tries swinging on me but I gently but firmly catch them and hold his wrists as he struggles, irrationally infuriated. I would break this old man. If I so much as hold his wrists too tightly they'll bruise. If that happens I'm in trouble for assaulting the elderly. He would call the cops, he would make that claim, and he would sue. Since he's rich and I'm poor. Since he has no criminal history and everyone not involved thinks I burnt down a church, I'll go to jail over something like that.
Instead of assaulting an old man when he very clearly doesn't want me in his house, I start living on the streets. I have no friends. They have all abandoned me, even the ones that were with me on Mark's birthday. I'm a social pariah. If they are seen with me they'll quickly become so too. It's at the point that even my family's jobs are in jeopardy if they are seen with me. Not everyone knows me in Wenatchee, so they all don't connect the face they saw on the news to me. It's more tolerable.
I start sleeping in unlocked cars so I don't freeze to death in the winter. It's a simple process. I walk down the street checking door handles until one opens.
A couple hundred a month in food stamps doesn't go that far sleeping on the street. I can't cook food or store it. I have no street hustle or survival skills. Selling fake drugs to drunk tourists and frat boys isn't a thing in Wenatchee. It's not big enough to get lost in, like LA. No crackheads are wandering the street to sell fake crack. I start stealing the change out of the cars I enter.
That little bit of change that I might find in 1 car isn't enough for food and cigarettes. Collecting butts out of ashtrays gets old real quick. So I start car prowling.
It's super fucking cold out. My feet are about to frostbite. Someone left their keys in the car. If I start it up and let it idle I can get the heater going and unthaw. If I just sit with the car idling Infront of the people's house I'm going to get caught. I start stealing cars.
It's an extremely lonely life stealing cars. I sleep during the day and prowl for a new one at night. I hop from town to town. I have no way of finding the very few homeless shelters in the area. I have no plan, no way out, all I have is the next boost and some change for food and cigarettes.
I steal an El Camino in Yakima after searching for and failing to find a homeless shelter. I'm sure there might be one but I can't find it in a day and there are no homeless people I can find to ask. I head out of the county. It's been months since I've had a conversation with another human. I haven't taken a shower or changed clothes in months which is making human interaction worse. I head toward Ephrata. I find an old friend that's addicted to heroin. He lets me shower and wash my clothes. He has a friend that sells drugs. He's got a backpack full of drugs and needs a ride out of town.
I cruise around with them, getting to know them and gaining each other trust. We're parked outside of a trailer park in Quincy when a guy walks up and starts rummaging through the back of the El Camino. He starts asking how much things cost, high as shit, and immediately finds a bottle of absinthe liquor.
"What's this for? You guys going to a party! Can I come?"
We all know who he is once he turns around. It's Fish. He's a well-known snitch. He doesn't even get paid. He narcs on people just to have something to talk to cops about, even though he's a criminal.
"Sorry you're not invited"
"Where's the party at? Maybe I can get invited?"
"It's over by Lee's Theater." I lie, as we climb into the car. If Fish is around cops won't be far, and we have a backpack full of drugs.
"Does Fish know you sell drugs or anything?" I ask as we drive away.
No, I've never met him. Only a couple of people know me around here"
"Good, we should head out as soon as possible before he gets a chance to tell anybody about us"
"I just need to make one stop and we can be out"
I end up waiting several hours outside a house while he does a drug deal inside. When he's done we start heading toward the freeway. Without thinking about it I drive by Lee's theater in Ephrata.
A cop immediately pulls out of the parking lot and follows us. I take a couple of turns at intersections the cop keeps behind me. I'm in an El Camino. This isn't an ideal getaway vehicle. It's way underpowered and one of the few cars on that handles worse than a police car. Yeah, it had a bunch of power in the '70s but it's 2009. I pull up to a convince store trying to think. Maybe he's not committed to following us? Maybe I run on foot? Where?
As soon as I pull into the convenience store parking lot the cop's lights come on. That's probably when the plates came back stolen. I pull into a stall in a panic. My heart is pumping.
My passenger is sweating bullets. "I have a boat of ecstasy."
"I'm going to run"
I keep my head down using the mirrors to see. I try throwing the car into reverse. I keep missing the gear lurching the car. After a couple of tries, I manage. I do a reverse slide bringing the nose around by sliding the car between the cop car and a gas pump, as cop cars start to surround me. I throw it into drive and take off. Peeling out the whole way. I take a slow corner right after the train tracks a few hundred feet away. I figure if I keep taking corners my driving skill will count and the difference in cars can be compensated for.
I'm correct. The cops in their excitement all blow the reversed banked corner. They almost catch up when I turn again into the school. They don't blow this one as badly but then I turn onto the gravel at a gap in the fence. I keep it floored as they have to go around to another gate. The lead car is blocking the opening because he missed the gap. I head to the sledding hill. I fishtail in gravel swinging left and right in big broadsides as I slow and line up my hill shot. I run up the hill and cross a road into a culdesac. I come to the end and stop.
"Here's your chance to run.". He's already opening the door and runs.
I see him climbing a fence in the mirror as I head out of town. I make it to the road. I see Cherry's and berry's and head the opposite way. I see more cherries and berries heading me off on the highway. I ditch the car in a field and run on foot. There are cops posted on all the roads around me. I hide in an overgrown alley with one entrance.
I sit there for a while in the cold. I know they know who I am. I left all my stuff in the El Camino. If they didn't know who I am, they'll know when they search the car.
Is jail worse than living like this? I'm hungry, cold, lonely, living by stealing. It's mostly the last one, it bugs my conscience. If I turn myself in I should give myself some sort of defense. There is no possible way they could have identified me. I had a hat on and kept my trench coat collar up. I never faced them. Kept my face out of any light. Spun the car with my back to the officers with my head low. I know it was Fish.
I walk toward the flashing police lights by where I ditched the car claiming to be the passenger.
Officer puppy puncher claims to have made an ID when I spun the car. He claims that I spun the car in the opposite direction.
I spend the next 52 days in jail. I don't adapt well in jail. I spend my time playing cards and working out.
There's this thing called a tank boss that gets upset when I don't show the proper intimidation. I'm not the biggest guy in the world. I'm bigger than average. Most of my weight is in my lower body, so I don't look all that big for my size. Tank bosses do prison bodybuilding. They have huge arms, shoulders, chests, and necks; but little chicken legs. When comparing body sizes for who's bigger, all they focus on is the upper body. Someone like me who to them and their standards is tiny needs to defer to them in body language and actions. For the life of me, I can't remember doing this. This causes me to get into fights. I whoop their ass, then I get sent to a new tank after a short stint in solitary.
I'm segregated from the rest of the prisoners when it comes court time. I'm not allowed to go with the rest to arraignment. Not because I'm in trouble.
I'm left in the rec room when 2 violent sex offenders are brought in partially cuffed. It's clear what's supposed to happen but we end up playing a suspenseful game of ping pong instead.
Immediately after I'm offered a plea deal. A felony for stealing the car and eluding the police. They drop the police endangerment and release me immediately. I accept a felony as a 1st-time offender.
Threatening with gang rape is a tactic of theirs.
I find a homeless shelter in Wenatchee. It's pretty chill at 1st. I work in the kitchen. It's supposed to be a 2-hour chore. There are cockroaches. We don't get cock roaches in that area unless the place is kept filthy. The kitchen is filthy with rotting food under all the counters, and grease pads on the floors. It takes me several weeks at 5 hours a day to get it sanitary.
Things start turning for the worse when the kitchen supervisor starts pinching my butt. I smack him across the shins with the broom.
I fill my days with a 2-hour run in the morning up Stemilt Hill Road. When I get back I teach myself calculus from a study guide. I figure if I can't get a decent job, maybe I can go to college and live on student loans.
I get a job washing cars for a used car lot just before they do a big promo. It's only a week's worth of work but it's something.
The people running the shelter hear of this. They immediately call me in for a meeting. They want me to pay 1/3 of my wages to them. They want the money now. I haven't gotten paid yet. They are unwilling to listen to me. If I don't give them the money right now then I have to pay another way. They begin gesturing towards their crotches. I'm kicked out for refusing their sexual advances. I have to leave that evening, get my bags and go.
Move In With Corwin
Corwin deeply apologizes. He says I can move back in, this time I can stay in the camper. I'm free to come and go as I please. This goes downhill when the homeowner association starts seeing me. They aren't upset, but Corwin is sensitive about how it's being perceived. The tension starts mounting again.
People Ready Wenatchee
I finally get a consistent job working for People Ready. It is temp labor. As soon as 1 job ends I go to another. I get a longer seasonal gig making apple boxes during harvest. This only last until winter. During winter all the jobs dry up.
Pat Spreading Slander.
I'm at a party when I hear pat telling everyone I'm a pedophile. He's not claiming I ever did anything with him or any kids he knows. He's just telling everyone I'm a pedophile. Narcissists will create false bad guys by spreading slander to make them look like the good guy.
According to other people, he's been doing this for a while. This is the last I ever try to associate with my brother. We are still in the same family and if he gets a chance he'll try to weasel his way into my life and pull the same routine. No one has ever accused me of anything like this, I have never and would never. It's just him trying to inflate himself at my expense.
I'm in Leavenworth. I'm walking toward the back end of the mall where there are a few small shops. I hear Olaf and pause in my tracks. He's telling another person that Micheal has just received his tattoos. Just like they describe in the movie blade. They use black light ink nowadays. I'm deeply worried.
I hang out at the duck that night. I start talking to a handful of girls. We're laughing and having fun. I see pat walk in and decide it's time to leave. The girls want to come with me.
Before I can even pay the bill Pat is over here talking himself up. He came with a native chick. He's going to walk with us, uninvited. As soon as we get out the door he offers the girls meth. The girls now ignore me. I'm not upset in the least. If they're like that Pat can have them. I don't have time for drug addicts.
I just want to make sure they're safe where ever they're going. The native chick Pat is with clearly feels jilted. Pats now ignoring her for the girls I just met. We get to where they're headed. Pats taking them to a storage shack at the white water rafting company he works for. I call in asking if anyone is in there. There is a couple already.
The native chick wants something other than meth. She heads to Michael's hotel room, the same Micheal. I just want to sleep so I head back to the blue rabbit.
A short time later the native chick taps on the rabbit window. She didn't get drugs from Micheal and she has nowhere to sleep. She doesn't trust me to not drive off with her in the middle of the night so I give her the driver's seat but keep the keys on me. She's horny but I'm not interested. I'm worried.
I get a job ringing a bell for the Salvation Army. They do have volunteers but it's hard to get volunteers to consistently show up day after day and ring a bell all day long, especially when the weather turns brutal. I approach it the same way I always approach a job. I learn to ring the bell to different rhythms. I'm exceptionally kind and hold the door for people. My kettle fills up fast. As Christmas approaches the kettle has to be replaced 3 times a day to prevent it from being overstuffed, it still happens. They have me working overtime. Christmas day is the last day of the bell ringing.
My check doesn't come at the end of the week. All I get is answering machines when I try to call. I show up at the church. The sergeant and his assistant have gone on a foreign retreat and can't be contacted. I still can't get my check. I have to file wage theft with the department of labor.
This whole time Corwin is losing his mind. Now I'm not paying rent!
I've been kicked out again. It doesn't get to the point of Corwin attacking me.
"You need to get out now!"
I have nowhere to go that night. I go back to trying to find a car I can sleep in. I get discovered by a person. He calls the cops as I run. The cops track my footprints in the snow and catch me. I spend a couple of weeks in jail.
When I'm released the snow has melted and it's early enough in the day to hitchhike. I head to Spokane.
I manage to find a homeless shelter in Spokane. I spent several nights sleeping under the iron bridge before I found the UGM 1 block and across the river away.
I hop between shelters mostly staying at Truth Ministries. It's a shelter for the working homeless. Most shelters pressure people into a "program" aka cult. Truth expects people to stay there to find a job and stay away from the area until it's time for dinner and bed. Early wake up and everyone out by 9. This suits me sometimes I work late and don't get back in time, there are no bed reservations.
Working homeless sounds like a contradiction in terms to people outside the United States. Let me explain. About 40% of the homeless population has a job. There are several reasons they still can get a place to stay. #1 "unstable income" working temp labor and odd jobs doesn't consistently make the same amount of money. Even low-income housing projects want a consistent amount at 30% of income. This is also termed"underemployed" but can happen at over 40 hours a week. #2 background checks are another barrier. There are groups of people that slip through the cracks. There's special housing for sex offenders and violent offenders and newly released from prison. There's nothing for people who have false accusations. #3 Bad rental history usually they lost a job and couldn't pay rent. #4 the programs to help homeless people are full of scammers and cults. People have a hard time dealing with the risk of becoming involved with either of these. Being homeless is not a great place to be taking risks, especially who you get involved with. Getting involved with the wrong people results in incarceration, robbery, assault, rape, and wasted time. If someone's working and homeless they're usually high functioning, not handicapped or drug addicted, or crazy. This is because it's very difficult to maintain any job while struggling on the level of homeless.
Being homeless makes everything more difficult. Maintaining a hygiene routine is very difficult. Showers and washing clothes are only available at certain times on certain days with several-hour wait times during normal business hours. With no way to store or prepare food, food bills skyrocket. Squirrels can chew through 5-gallon buckets, the best solution. Dinner can become your only meal when you're busy. Bad weather like rain becomes more than just inconvenient.
Transportation is going to get tough. Cities in the USA are designed for cars. Everything is several miles apart. The average person has a 20-minute commute by car to work. By bus, this becomes 1&1/2 hours. Buses are inconsistent and mostly operate during normal business hours, when already at work. Bikes are the best option but are frequently stolen, damaged, and weather slowed. There are only so many hours during the day, getting from place to place is going to take an hour instead of minutes. Won't be able to transport much either, a pack full.
Emergencies will become more frequent and you will be less able to handle them. Your pack being stolen is catastrophic and will happen. Your camp being raided is catastrophic and will happen. You will be targeted by both criminals and police. There will be random stuff like being jumped on by stray pit bulls in the middle of the night. Becoming injured during all of this is extremely likely.
There will be the temptation to drift away on a drug-induced cloud. Homeless people are surrounded by drugs and constantly offered drugs for sex, for guys its gay sex. Almost all the nonworking homeless will happily take any drug they're offered and outnumber you. You will mostly encounter the nonworking homeless because the working homeless are constantly busy.
I sign up for labor ready in Spokane and one of the 1st jobs they send me to is to help an eccentric woman garden. It's the shadow burqa woman.
She's crying mad. I manage to calm her down. We even start singing back and forth together. I'm a mixture of terrified and thrilled. She tries to get me to remember things but I can't. My memory goes to a certain point and then goes black. She's trying to remind me of my blacked-out memories. I'm frustrating her to tears again.
She tells me "stop breathing."
I do. I've been trying to catch my breath this whole time and now I just stop. I could die right now terrified and confused, but happy. I start seeing stars and get dizzy. My world goes black. 'Okay, I just won't breathe anymore' happy with this being the end, to die at her command.
I wake up with her giving me chest compressions "please breath again!"
I inhale deeply. She's mad at me. Now that I think about, it if I would've held out just a little longer I could've gotten mouth to mouth. It didn't happen at all like in the sandbox.
When I recover, she spends a half hour explaining to me how she wants me to cut a Dwarf Cyprus. She's a combination of emotions. still crying mad at some points. In other moments she seems to be mad at me. She's pissed at Micheal about something and confused about something with me. When she's done I cut it in one clean cut to the exact dimensions she described.
"THERE'S SUPPOSED TO BE SOME CEREMONY WITH IT!". She looks at me suddenly enraged "you're done just get out of here. I never want to see you again".
Her rejection cuts deep. It affects me in a way I wasn't prepared for or could understand. It's a long walk back to Labor Ready. There's a metaphorical blood trail from the wound just created.
When I get back to labor ready, she hasn't called in my hours. Viki calls her and asks her to confirm. Shadow Burqa lady is in full hysteric rage. She is accusing me of trying to trick her into believing I'm someone else. She wants me fired for trying to prey on her emotions.
Destruction of Self Esteem
Being rejected by shadow burqa lady sends me into a downward spiral. Something about it I can't deal with. The world suddenly has no meaning. There's a constant pain, that feeling of beginning lost forever. I'm homeless, there's no hope for me, no future, shadow burqa lady wants nothing to do with me.
I've stayed away from hard drugs and promiscuous sex until now. What do I have to lose? What is the worst that can happen? Living on the streets has given me a new level of 0 fucks. People say they give no fucks, they lie. They aren't banging a woman at the park in front of the tourist level 0 fucks. Nothing matters kill me or worse lock me up, don't care. I bury whatever I feel as best as I can with whatever drugs I can get and sex.
Trailer Park Party
Stop 12 Year Old Gang Rape
I'm on the bus with a half gallon of vodka and a pack of cigarettes. I'm heading to a small college town just outside of Spokane. I know if I just walk around with a bottle of booze I'll find someone to drink it with. It's rush week on campus so there are going to be plenty of college kids.
There's a bunch of high schoolers on the bus. A couple of girls come up and ask me if I want to go to their birthday party.
"No, I'm headed to Cheney."
"Please we're just up here.
"Thanks, but no thanks"
There are a couple of guys staring and whispering between themselves in front of me. They've been rubbing their crotches, half masturbating. Every time the young girl they are staring at looks their way they look the other way. Her boyfriend is sitting in front of them, he just joined a gang, maybe 14. He's told to pretend not to know them.
She keeps looking at them suspiciously. "Do you know them?" she asks her boyfriend.
"Are your new friends coming?"
"No, I'm told they wouldn't be."
She goes back to sitting with the girls that invited me to their birthday party.
It's very obvious to me what is about to happen. That little girl is about to get gang raped.
I walk over to the girls. "Okay, I'll go to the party. I'm only doing this because those guys are going to rape her.
"No, my boyfriend isn't like that. You lie"
"They're probably going to drug you. When it happens don't go to the bathroom. Come to where I ever I'm at."
At the party, the birthday girl and her friends take me to the bedroom adjacent to the bathroom. The rest of the house is in a full party. There's a bunch of drugs floating around. We start playing kings, a drinking game.
It isn't 15 minutes before that girl stumbled in "I've been drugged".
She's woozy and tired. We watch over her I take her pulse.
We hear guys outside "hurry up shove her out".
"She's not in here".
The girls hear this and look out the window. It's the local gang.
"You know you guys aren't invited now get out of here." They close the blinds.
Then the two guys that were sitting in front of me walk into the room.
"She's with us and needs to go home."
"What's your names? How do you know her?"
They dodge the question "we know where she lives and can give her a ride?"
"I asked what's your names?"
They look at each other, quickly turn and leave.
I have her drink some water and someone brings crackers. She passes out. I watch her the whole night checking her pulse, ready to send her to the hospital if necessary. Calling 911 isn't the best idea in this scenario if she can just sleep it off and not get in trouble and the house doesn't get busted. She's 12.
I won't say this is the best idea for anyone, you have to know what you're doing or she could die. I'm not going to talk about all the things to watch because I don't want someone becoming overconfident because of something they read.
I'm more interested in making sure the 12-year-old is safe than having sex. It's offered.
One of the girls I say no to doesn't handle rejection well. She starts claiming I came on to her saying "what your boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him".
I didn't say anything like this nor would I. This is one of the dumbest things you could ever say. Saying things like that triggers a loyalty response. A much better thing to say in any circumstance that I would be tempted to say is "your boyfriend must respect you, he must tell you how wonderful you are, and let you know how much you mean to him; to keep a girl like you".
Her mind will immediately go to how 'no, he doesn't.
If he does do these things, I didn't stand a chance anyway. Since most men don't and most women are insatiable when it comes to this stuff, it works amazingly. I can say this right in front of him. It'll get him bragging which just helps me even more.
A dirty smelly broke homeless dude that doesn't buy sex with drugs or money, to get any nookie, I have to have a bunch of these lines ready. That one's up there with "will you hold this for me?"
I make friends with a group of other homeless people. They get an apartment together and want to show it to me. They're renting it from an old man. The tenants upstairs are the property managers. This apartment couldn't pass any apartment inspection. Not quite as bad as when me and Pat moved in with our dad but in that category, something is up.
We're hanging out talking when the property manager lets himself in.
"We need to talk about something. I'm increasing your deposit from $300 to $500"
"We've already paid the $300"
"It's $500 now. I want it by the end of the month or I break your legs."
"Me and the old lady are getting married and we need a honeymoon."
"We paid what we agreed. Why are you..."
"PAY IT OR I BREAK YOUR LEGS!" And he Strom's out with the big guy he left in the kitchen.
"What are we going to do?"
"Just leave, finish the month, and go. There's no way any of this is legit".
"He's subleasing so we don't have a contract"
"The best thing to do is to leave as soon as possible. Dealing with people like that is only going to get worse."
They take my advice and leave. Now he's mad at me for interfering with his business and is offering homeless people $100 to beat me up. He's claiming that I helped rob him of $800. He's a meth dealer and the big guy is just out of prison for strong-armed robbery and multiple assaults.
Brian and I are walking down the street. The big guy walks toward us down the sidewalk and punched Brian in the face and tries to run. He gets about halfway into the street before I catch him. He tries wrestling me. I take his back and try choking him. Brian is watching stunned. No one in Spokane has seen me fight yet.
I start telling Brian "kick him in the face!"
Instead, Brian starts threatening him "if you ever try anything again I'll stab you."
I can't keep hold of the guy and his neck is huge. I can't choke him. He wrestles free and runs off. My jujitsu wasn't that good yet.
"You should've started kicking him. They always come back unless you fuck'em up good enough that their homies want none of it."
"I was worried about the people watching."
It didn't take long. He found us a church just down the road. They were getting ready to start feeding, and the meth dealer and his wife eat there. Not everyone who uses homeless resources is homeless. Some are struggling, some do it out of habit, and some are looking for victims.
People know that they can get away with just about anything if they do it to the homeless. They'll play it off, if the cops respond at all, as a lying crazy person and who cares they're homeless. Society protects its powerful. If there's a difference in social class the higher social class gets preferential treatment and benefit of belief unless proven otherwise. Cops aren't there to change social order and customs, they're there to enforce them.
The meth dealer and his muscle walk over to me and Brian saying they want to fight us in the alley. I know they're armed but they don't have their weapons out. We glance down the alley 2 guys with knives duck behind a corner.
"Nope not going"
We look over at the meth dealer's wife, she's on the phone. "There calling out my husband and his friend into the ally come quick I think they have weapons" she's crying and obviously on the phone with 911.
She sees us looking at her. She screams charging, arms flailing wildly. Brian catches her arms and holds them. The meth dealer uses his wife as a shield and starts punching Brian as the big guy and a skinny tweaker circle behind us.
I take a few steps and snatch the meth dealer by his throat. I lift and choke slam him on the asphalt. Spike his skull like a football.
I turn around as the tweaker rushes me. I give him 3 swift kicks to the knee. He reaches out and I push him back. He grabs my arm as he falls back, his leg collapsing.
Just as he grabs my arm the big guy tackles me. I continue the roll trying to keep on top. My arm isn't working. I splay my legs stopping our roll. He's got a bear hug around my head as he's squeezing as hard as he can. He's just holding me.
My right arm isn't working so I reach up with my left and grab him by his Adam's Apple and squeeze. I can crack open walnuts like that.
He shakes his head and tries to get my grip off his Adam's Apple. This exposes his throat. I rape choke him. His head hold isn't doing anything to me other than holding. I'm crushing his throat.
I hold this while I watch everyone gather around the meth dealer. His wife is on her knees crying. Someone says he can feel a pulse with his thumb. Another person holds their ear to his mouth and says he isn't breathing. No one's doing CPR or knows how to, which is the question going around. I get to watch under my armpit. Suddenly he starts going into a seizure. It only lasts a few seconds before he goes into a deep snore. They sit him up and start rubbing his back. With help like this, I can only hope the fucker doesn't wake up, they're doing more harm than good. That's when people notice me.
"He's turning purple! PULL HIM OFF!"
They pull me by my ankles. I pop up ready to fight. It's the skinny tweaker.
"I'm good!" He says with his hands up backing away.
My arm is dislocated at the shoulder. I have to wear an arm sling for several months for it to heal.
The meth dealer is now a professed non-violent pacifist. He has seizures every time someone drives by playing bass. The big guy couldn't talk for over a year. The tweaker was last seen the week after in crutches.
I start going to college. I want the student loans to get me off the street. Even with consistent work from People Ready, I can't get a place to stay. It's not considered "reliable income". That's before they look up my background. My student loans finally come after a bunch of lost paperwork that I had to refile after 2 months of going to school without my own books, and living in a homeless shelter.