When you play “Duck! Duck! Goose!!” with the police, you have a problem – Part Two
by When you screw up and try to escape from your demons, you can always be assured of a few things: God has other plans for your life, and the demons already have a forwarding address to where you’ll be. Suicide will always follow you if you don’t deal with the root causes. You will win the battle if you grasp onto even the smallest of threads that are divinely offered to you.
Part One
Then they saw my vitamins on the kitchen table. A fireman started screaming, “WHAT DID YOU TAKE?!”
“Huh?!”
He pointed at the vitamins and screamed again, “WHAT DID YOU TAKE?!”
“I took nothing. Those are vitamins.”
They sat me down on the couch and took my blood pressure and did a sugar level check. “Oh, those readings should be nice and high. I ate cheesecake earlier.” It went without saying my heart rate was racing from my “wake up call” and a bunch of hot guys.
“Tell me your name!”
“Are you trying to determine if I’m lucid?”
“TELL ME YOUR NAME!!”
“If you’re a little nicer to me, I’ll give you my phone number, too.” They snickered. Never pass up a good opportunity when it kicks down your door!
“My name is…I live at…my birthday is…” I dutifully answered their questions.
“Who’s the President of the United States ?” I had visions of Cheech Marin’s video with the immigration officer who looked like a retired Marine – “Born in East L.A. ”. “Oh, that’s easy…he’s that actor dude, John Wayne.” I answered, “George Bush, but not for much longer if he keeps up his sh*t and tosses the election.” One of the firemen turned his back, snickering, trying to control himself.
Soon they cleared out, but a few were left behind. “Ok, we have to take you downtown to Greek Oaks for observation.” Greek Oaks? Oh noooo…I had worked inside the hospital systems and I knew this was THE premiere looney bin for the poor. I had called cops to pick up patients and send them there, and now they were going to set me up with the crazies?!
Like a little kid I whined, “I don’t wanna go. I’m staying right here.”
“You can’t. A local judge has committed you for a twenty-four hour observation stay. It’s standard procedure. If you don’t come willingly, then we’re authorized to tell Green Oaks to commit you up to a week.”
At that point, I was willing to go. Barely. I wanted my bra, but I didn’t dare ask if I could put one on. There I am feeling rather “Free Willy”-ish with “the girls” hanging out, and there was little I could do. They wouldn’t leave me behind a locked door! Besides, they had already made an inspection of the house and had seen my dirty little secret in the bedroom. The bed was covered with diet books and cheesecake wrappers. You know it’s bad when you can hear the cops laughing from on the other side of the house after they’ve found the remnants of your “stash”.
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