**NEW 12/28/17** Chapter 4 – E06

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Chapter 4

The $40 in my gas tank didn’t last too long. My problem, if you call it a problem, is that I don’t have a hustle. I’m terrified of pulling crimes because I get caught for the dumb things I don’t plan, so I figure that I will definitely get caught for the things that I do plan.

I needed gas though, so I turned to an old, but tried and true scam that has worked every time for me, one that I had never been caught doing. I pulled up to Wal-Mart, walked into the store, went and grabbed an expensive (non-technology based) item, kept it out in the open so as not to look suspicious, walked through the check-outs directly to the customer service desk, and promptly returned said item for a gift card. The item in question was a $140 tent.

Wal-Mart caught on to this long ago, but doesn’t know how to stop it from happening. Instead, they put limits on how often you can return things without receipts (3 in 6 months) and even more recently, started limiting the return amount to about $50 max, depending on the situation.

Also, if you get a gift card and the Wal-Mart has a Murphy U.S.A. gas station nearby, you can use the gift card to buy gas.

This was what I was looking for, but unfortunately, there were no WaI-Mart’s nearby with gas stations, so I did the tent thing and tried something new. After receiving the gift card, I went back to the check-out, bought a prepaid MasterCard, tried to load $100 on to it and look! It worked! I didn’t need the Murphy U.S.A. anymore! I could use any place that took MasterCard and that was everywhere!

I went across the street and tried to use it, but it didn’t work. I called the prepaid company and they said it could take up to 6 hours. It was time to wait patiently. After about 4 hours, my money showed up, I gassed up, went back and bought cigarettes and some food at Wal-Mart, jumped back on the freeway and continued my journey. I was stoked because I knew that I could do this a couple more times and get plenty of money for the trip. I hadn’t done it in years.

As I got into North Carolina later the next day, I needed money again. I was on my way to do the thing again, but while on the freeway, there was a red Mustang, brand new, that wanted to race me or something ignorant like that. I wasn’t looking for all that; I just wanted to get off the freeway. I was driving behind him, and he brake checked me. I was too close and had to swerve. When I did this, the tires locked on me and I spun out right in the middle of the freeway, and the day, going at least 60mph. I somehow landed in the ditch backward, but without any damage to myself, any other vehicles or my vehicle, minus a bent muffler that dug into the hill rising out of the ditch into a fronting a field or swamp or something. It was amazing. The red Mustang kept on going.

I got off the freeway and pulled into a gas station to assess the damage, tie the muffler up, put some more gas in and get some food before taking off, back on my mission. I was headed east and was only about 50 miles from the southbound interchange that would take me past Charlotte into South Carolina. When I got to Charlotte, I went to a hospital and told them that I had just got into an accident and that I needed to be seen. I wanted to get high and I knew that they would give me some pain pills, which they did, only taking about 2 hours to do such. I got a script of 12 5mg Vicodin.

I then went to Wal-Mart, did the tent thing again and got away with it. This time though, they hesitated. They told me that I had just done this the day before in Nashville. I said I did, that I had 2 tents from my family outing, and that I didn’t think to return both yesterday. They finally gave me the card.

After that, I took all 12 pills and regretted that almost immediately. I wanted to sleep, so I parked at the Wal-Mart I was at, and tried to sleep, but the pills kicked in and they were very fresh, meaning that they were extremely potent. 1 could not sleep for anything and itched and itched for about 6 hours. I finally drifted off.

The next day, it was time to get into South Carolina finally. I drove across the border and wanted to find some crack. I had been to this state before, and the last time I was here, if you pulled into certain places, guys would swarm your car with giant chunks of dope. That was what I was looking for in South Carolina.

I started driving around Rock Hill trying to find dope, looking everywhere for a dealer. I didn’t find one anywhere. I was getting really salty, when all of a sudden, my tire blows out. it’s about 11pm, and this happened out on a road that had all of its stores closed, or were closing for the night. I pulled into a Chinese ran gas station, told him I was going to be working on my car in his parking lot for a bit because I had a blow out, got a mean look from him, and then I walked out. I had no idea how I was going to find a tire. I did the only thing I could think at the time; walk door to door trying to find someone that might know someone that might have a tire.

I walked for about 45 minutes through a subdivision knocking on doors, when finally I seen in the distance a vehicle just like mine, I ran to the door, knocked until a younger black woman answered, and asked if she had a spare, telling her that I had the same car, model year 2002. She said the car was her moms and that she would ask.

A few minutes later, the owner came out and said she would help me if she could. We checked that she had a spare, and spent the next few minutes trying to figure out how to lower from underneath the rear of the car. I finally got it figured out, unattached it, told her thank you and that I would bring it back as soon aspossible, rolled the tire down the street to my car, pulled the old tire off, put the new tire on, and said “Thank GODI” when it fit, albeit a little larger than my old, blown out tire.

I hit the road again, again trying to find crack again. It was a terrible night, and I still could not find any dope. I eventually went to another Wal-Mart to sleep for the night and called it quits.

The next morning, I drove back into Rock Hill to a different Wal-Mart, wanting to get my final return out of the way. This time though, I grabbed a $250 dollar tent off the shelf. When I went to return it, things were very weird.

At first, the clerk told me “no”, that it was too much to return without a receipt. I kept insisting and finally a manager came up and started talking to me. He told me to wait while he found out if he could do It for me. I said “okay, thank you” and waited patiently.

I happened to catch him out of the corner of my eye, talking to a guy in plain clothes, not a Wal-Mart employee that I could tell, and he pointed in my direction. I didn’t think anything about it.

When the manager finally walked back to talk to me, he told the clerk to go ahead and let me have the gift card. She said okay, completed the transaction, gave me the card, and I started to leave the store.

All of a sudden, the plainclothes man walks up to me from one direction, the manager from another direction, and tells me that I need to come with them, telling me to give them the card back. The manager said that he thought this was an odd situation so he went and checked to see if I walked in with the tent or not. When he seen I didn’t, they set me up for a fraud charge.

Right then and there I bolted for the door. They grabbed me, tried to take my feet out from under me, to carry me to the Loss Prevention office, but I wasn’t having it. The guy in plainclothes had me around my neck and even as big as I am, I could not break his hold, The manager wasn’t doing anything with my feet. I wouldn’t let him. Finally, the plainclothes guy told him to stop trying to take my feet out from under me and he did. Plainclothes said to me simply “stop, I’m not letting go”, so I stopped. He said, “calm down, you know your busted” I said “I know”. He then said can I let up on the grip and put handcuffs on you?” I said “yeah” and let him. They then began asking me where the card was, and I started running them around saying I didn’t have it and I didn’t know where it was. I told them that the lady never handed it to me. He went and asked her, and she said that she did hand it to me. Then I said I threw it under a machine, They looked under the machines around us to no avail.

The whole time the card was in my back pocket. They finally patted me down and found It.

It was time to walk to the office. As we got near the door, which, stupidly, resides about 2 feet from the main entrance outer doors, in the area between the outer set and inner set of doors (where you grab a cart, or RedBox movie), I pushed plainclothes into the sliding doors and bolted. Somehow, and I mean, I have no idea how, this man managed to hang on to my arms and pull me back inside. It was an amazing feat of strength considering that I just slammed him full body into the glass as hard as I could, hard enough that I should have either broken or dislocated his shoulder. I was absolutely amazed that this didn’t happen.

When they got me into the office, he said “That’s it, you are trapped. You can’t go anywhere else. Nice try though.” I was bitter, but after about 2 minutes, I started cooperating with him.

Turned out, he wasn’t mad at me, and we started talking. He told me that that was a nice shot I tried to take at the end, and that I hurt him pretty badly. I apologized for that, telling him that it was just a last ditch attempt to get away and that I hoped he understood. He did.

At that about this time, a cop came flying in, taser out, red dot on my chest, barking at me to “stop resisting” I told him I was done resisting and so did plainclothes. Plainclothes and I were even laughing a little about the event as the cop came in. The cop put his taser away and asked what they wanted done.

Because I had eventually cooperated with them and not fought back, i.e., swung my fists or kicked them with my feet, plainclothes said he was not going to file a battery charge against me. I thanked him for this greatly. They only charge that I was given was something like “taking property under false pretenses” a small misdemeanor. The other thing they did hurt me much more than this though. From this point on, if I was caught on ANY Wal-Mart property, I would be arrested right then and there for trespassing. That sucked bad.

Finally, after few minutes, the cop took me out, put me in the car, and drove me to the jail.

Here is the thing: for the battery against Lucy months before, I was placed on 6 months of probation. I figured as soon as I got to the jail, they would see that I was on probation and call my state to let them know they had me, thus ending my little soirée of freedom, requiring me to go back to my state and go to jail there as well.

What ended up ACTUALLY happening was no less than amazing.

Come to find out, misdemeanors aren’t stored in a countrywide database, and unless I had told them that I was on probation somewhere else, they would never find out about that incident. Thankfully, I never told them.

I sat in cell for 2 days eating Stouffers frozen dinners (because that is what they served while waiting for court) until finally I got to see the judge.

When I got into court, I could take my case to trial, wait for a plea, or admit guilt right then and there. I just wanted to get this out of the way, so I admitted guilt and waited for sentencing.

The judge, a nice elderly woman, accepted my guilty plea, then passed on sentencing right then and there. I was to do 11 days on the chain gang and then be released! That was all!

I said thank you and off I went.

The chain gang consisted of a recycling center with a conveyer belt that a bunch of us stood at, pulling plastic, cans and any other recyclables, throwing them down long tubes into dumpsters, for 12 hours a day. It wasn’t hard work at all, and while I was in there, I met some pretty nice people, specifically one.

As I was leaving, I had no ride. I didn’t know if my car was towed when I went to jail almost 2 weeks prior. I left it at the Wal-Mart and really needed to get there and check. Fortunately, before I went into Wal-Mart, I had put the keys under my front seat and didn’t lock the doors. Everything I owned was in there.

One of the guys from the chain gang said that he would take me there to check. His girlfriend pulled up and off we went. I was so nervous when we pulled up. At first 1 didn’t see my car, and then booml There it wasl

I ran up to it, started it up, and my buddy told me to follow him back to his house.

When we got there, he rolled a blunt, Introduced me to his mom, and they both said to me that if 1 needed a place to stay for the time being, I was more than welcome. Southern hospitality at its finest.

Though I didn’t want to stay in the house and intrude, I asked if I could just park in the yard each night and fall asleep, maybe use the shower here and there while I looked for a job. At this point, I stopped trying to head to Charleston. This seemed like a nice enough area, so I decided to stay.

I should have kept going like I planned to. 

I still wanted to find crack. Now that I had a stable spot to relax, I tried something new.

I had been bi-sexual for some time, and all that 1 had learned from the prostitute had made me want to do what she was doing, but at the time I was her driver, I was still tightly in the closet, and didn’t want anyone that I knew, however closely, knowing that I was hi. So, instead of working with her and making more money, I just drove her, waiting for the opportunity to try doing what she did, at another time. Now was that time.

I went to a college in town because they usually have computers that the public can use. After getting logged in, I went on Craigslist and posted an advertisement that I gave massages and to call me, Within an hour, I had my first call and it was time to go make some money.

When I got to the clients hotel, I was nervous, but when I went inside, the nervousness started to fade away. He wanted a massage first, then a hand job. I told him I needed $160 and he agreed. Just like that, I was a prostitute.

I would do a job, then go buy crack. I had finally found a dealer right across the street from my buddy’s house. Well, not a real dealer. He only dealt crack because I wanted to buy it. I told him that if he kept a supply of it, I would buy it.

Sometimes I would rent a motel room, other times I would smoke in my car sneakily while parked in my buddy’s yard.

I only smoked crack to bust a nut. Crack made me horny, and I found out 2 years before that the best time to take a hit of crack was just before I came, exhaling as I came, which literally gave me the best orgasm that I ever had. All I did while smoking crack was masturbate.

On one call, a client asked me if I had ever messed around with leather. I told him no, but I was not afraid to try whatever it was that he wanted to try. I needed the money to get high and so I told him I was on my way.

When I got there, he showed the straps that he wanted to use on me, but he had not explained how he wanted to use them. Instead, he just told me that he wanted to use them.

At this point, we went into his bedroom and he had me get naked. I did and he told me to lie down on the bed. He started tying these leather straps around my penis. They weren’t uncomfortable, to begin with, but then things started to change.

He started tightening them around my testicles, then putting my strained testicles into his mouth. It was very uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt terribly at this point, but then, he amped up the pain 1000%. He tightened these straps down as hard as he could and started sucking on my testicles relentlessly. I was trying to go with the flow, but I promise you, you have never felt sustained pain to your testicles like I felt this day. And if you have and enjoy it, I have no idea how. This was legitimate torture.

After about 20 minutes of this (YES, 20 minutes of torture), I gave up and told him that I couldn’t take anymore. I told him that it hurt so badly. He relented and reluctantly took the horrible leather torture strap from around my penis and scrotum, and I could finally breath.

He told me that he was going to pay me the full amount even though I didn’t give him the full hour that he paid for, and I got dressed. He went over to his carpet, pulled the corner up, grabbed the $200 that was under there, and handed it to me.

I limped out of there, jumped in my car, and drove to the dope mans house. I had not enjoyed myself one single bit, but I still wanted to get high and masturbate. This was all that was on my mind the entire time, to just make it through it  so I could get high.

During this time, I was deciding whether or not this could be a good place to settle down with Lucy, and so, to see what the work was like down here, I decided to go job searching. It didn’t take me very long to find a serving job.

I got hired into the little mom and pop restaurant and instead of me serving tables like I thought, they put me in this stupid training program, which, after about a week or so of working there, I really hated it. I was basically a bus boy, and I that is not what I signed up for.

Instead of doing my job like they wanted me to, I would get high before hand, and still come into work. I was high on crack running around this restaurant, looking like a crack head. I didn’t care. I wasn’t making any money, and after about 2 weeks in this dump without them moving up to serving, I quit on what was expected to be the busiest night of the season. I left them high and dry because they lied and told me that I was going to be serving. Good riddance.

I ended up getting another call from a guy about 30 miles north of where I was, and so I went to do the call with him. He wanted me to meet him at a hotel.

When I got there, he told me that this would be his first experience with a man, and that he would pay really well, but that I he only had a check, and no cash. I was wowed at this. I had just wasted the last of my gas to get this man, all for a check.

He told me to not worry, that the check was good, and that I could cash it the next day, to please stay and do this with him because he liked what he seen with me and thought that I would be the perfect person to be his first. I was very hesitant, but in the end, I decided to trust this man. He told me that he would give me $350 for my time, and so, that was that.

We ended up messing around for a little bit, but because I wasn’t sure about the money, he didn’t have my full attention. I tried to just get this done as quickly as possible to try and get things in order for a call that I could make some CASH on.

I gave him oral for a little bit, but then I ended making him give me oral, until I came in his mouth. I did what I wanted to him.

After that, he had me do something very strange to me at the time. He asked me to blow into his truck to clear his breathalyzer. I helped him and he got on his way, reminding me to not try to cash the check until the next day. I jumped in my car and took off.

That night, I was lucky enough to find another call, this one for cash. And he was cool, ended up having a decent conversation while he took care of me.

That is the thing. Most times, I didn’t have to do anything,. I was willing to do everything, but because I have a big penis, clients really just liked touching and playing with it, giving me oral. I didn’t mind because I got paid for my time, and not for what happened during that time.

The next day, I went to the bank to cash that check, and thankfully, it actually cleared. I was $350 richer AND higher off of crack. The problem was, was that I was not really liking the prospects that I was finding in South Carolina. And to top it off, I really wasn’t enjoying the crack any more. It was weak.

The reality was, I was tired of being there. I just wanted to not struggle anymore. I had been talking to Lucy here and there, and so I decided to call her and tell her that I had failed and that I was ready to give up on wish of moving us away from that trailer park. I asked her if she could get any money to get me home, and she told me that she could, and so, that was that.

She sent me some money from gran. I went to my buddies and told him that I was going to head out, that I couldn’t make it down there, and that I was going home, but that I had appreciated everything that he and his family had done for me. I think they knew that I was on crack bad, but I don’t think they had any idea how I was getting the money to get high.

It was time to get a move on, and head on back home. I really was home sick, but not because of love. I wanted to get back and not have to pay for my own way, plus, I wanted to do this craigslist stuff in my own state.

It was getting cold there in South Carolina, but it wasn’t nothing like I was going back to. It was time to get on the road back to full blown winter.

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