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Drug Runs, Broken Toes, and a Backseat Nun.
The Cadillac Clock Hustler was the first half of the day. This is the second half. It was already dark when we arrived at the place to meet the people with the stuff. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to be there. My guess is the babysitter cancelled, or disappeared. We were invited inside a mobile…
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Mercury.
Eva filed her nails into three distinct points so each fingernail looked like a mauve holly leaf. She was 90 and had a dead husband. Her wardrobe consisted of colorful moo-moos vastly improved by tobacco stains. She lived two doors down from us in the dumpy apartment complex we lived in when I was seven.…
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Dobermans hate Lacoste.
Back-to-school shopping my third grade summer should have been a televised event sponsored by Lacoste. This materialistic extravaganza was made possible by the giant sea-faring drug-smuggler, my mom’s bald and bearded boyfriend. She later married him, but not until she was absolutely certain he was a bona fide criminal. No southern lady wants to make…
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Grape Soda
I woke up in a bed that wasn’t mine, which can happen when you’re eight years old and not paying attention. I felt a lot better when I recognized the bedspread. We had the same one at home, and they’re the same in every room at the Holiday Inn unless you ask for a special…
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Family Vacations and Felonies
If you need to wear a wire for the feds on your next family vacation, keep Florida in mind. The official sunshine state offers white sandy beaches, water sports, immunity, and all-you-can-eat oranges for the kids. In our case, it was the perfect place to host a complex drug deal with a cast of criminals…
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Easter Etiquette, in Prison.
I was 10 and dressed in my “Sundy best” prepared to visit my drug-smuggling stepfather in prison on Easter. I had a basket all prepped for him because it’s a big deal to receive hard-boiled eggs when you’re incarcerated, and because kids don’t know to ask reasonable questions like “what in the fuck?” Being dedicated…
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