Before we left the hospital, a nurse came up to us and asked if we wanted to do a paternity test to split custody. She said it would cost $500. We didn’t have that money, so she said if I was sure I was the father, that I could sign a paternity affidavit. This would allow me to be the father on the birth certificate and for my son to have my last name. She told me that I would not have any custody rights though until paternity was legally established. I figured this was not a problem and I signed the paperwork. This was second worst split-decision I had ever made. She had 100% custody and that meant she had all the responsibility, or, if she wanted to, have a very powerful weapon to hurt me. How do you think this plays out?
We left the hospital 2 days later, and went back to the trailer. Now that our son was born, gran was not thinking about kicking me out anymore. Everything had changed overnight.
That thing Ralph had been working on was a complete remodel of our room into a nice room with blue (boy) colors and a basinet. It was very nice and had the words “Never go to sleep without kissing me goodnight” above his bed. My son was perfect and this was a perfect gift to us, even though Ralph was always doing us terribly. I forgave him for all the “before”, but then, just as before, it all started up again.
Lucy started having friends over and starting becoming really lazy. She was addicted to Facebook and whenever we would get into an argument, she would passively aggressively post comments that were ridiculous just to piss me off, saying that nobody knows that she is talking about me. EVERYONE knew she was talking bad about me publicly. I began to despise her.
I took care of my son. I never EVER asked her to do anything for him. Whatever situation came up, I handled right then and there. She, on the other hand, would ask me to change his diaper, feed him, get him dressed, wake up and take care of him (even though I worked 12 hour days) and do literally everything for him. Me. Not only these things, but I would constantly come home to a dirty house. It got very tiring and eventually I just had enough.
The problem was this: ever since she moved in with gran when she was 14, she had been pampered, princess-ified, and so she had no responsibility. I had hoped as our relationship progressed that she would see that the real word requires that we not be lazy, but of course, that was never the case. It got way worse after our son was born. Plus, gran got a disability check each month, and would give her about $400 of it no matter what. It was terrible.
Finally, that aunt from New York came out to visit us saying that she wanted to meet my son. When she got there, she had an ounce of weed meet her at our doorstep via UPS. We smoked for a couple of days, but then, she started being very stingy and taking up space at our home. I was getting badmouthed again, and so, one day, I went into work, told them that I needed to switch shifts and start cooking because everything was taking a toll on me in life, and I need a break from the public. My work agreed, put me on a duel schedule, serve this day, and cook this day. This caused tax problems though, so I wasn’t making as much as I should of. This was the final straw.
I had about $200. I went home, told Lucy that I had had enough, and that I was going to take the car, the $200 and I was going to head south. I wanted to move us somewhere fresh. A new start. The truth was, I needed to get her out of her comfort zone because I was exhausted from the constant abuse and the mental/physical strain of shouldering all of the responsibility, I was sick of my state and it was time to make a move.
I called my work, told them I couldn’t work anymore, that I was having a breakdown, packed up the crossover, told Lucy that I would let her know when I found us a place, and that I would talk to her everyday to let her know I was alright. That was the plan to her. That wasn’t the plan in reality. I wanted to get high.
I jumped on the road that night, headed for Nashville Tennessee which I was told was a nice place to get restarted by someone years before. and was ready to start pit stopping on my way through major cities, looking for crack dealers.
I didn’t find anything until I finally reached the north side of Nashville, a terrible and seedy place.
I was sitting at a gas station when all of a sudden I seen this woman that definitely looked like a crack smoker walking into the Jack-in-the-Box beside the gas station. I pulled up to her and told her I was looking for some dope. She asked if I was the police and I told her no. I told her I just moved here and am trying to get high. She helped me handle that.
That night, the dealer came over to the motel room I was staying at and told me he would give me a fat rock if he could use my vehicle for a little while. I hesitated, but then said yes.
He took off, and I started getting high. After the dope was gone, I started getting very nervous about him bringing back my car. He DID come back though, surprisingly. From that point on, we were cool. He introduced me to a prostitute that needed a driver and that is what I became, her driver.
She would post ads on this new website (at the time) called backpage.com, and I got to witness the power of this site first hand. She would go on 2-5 calls a day and make $150 each time. For me driving her, I was to get $40 per call. She was an I.V. heroin user and I was a crack smoker.
I hadn’t talked to Lucy for 2 weeks because I sold my phone for crack to the first woman that I had met at the gas station. I did call her after this and told her that I left my phone on the front seat of the car while at McDonalds and that someone had stolen it while I was in the bathroom. I told her that I would call her as much as possible though. I told her that I was driving a heroin dealer (not crack dealer because that would have tipped her off) around and that I was trying to get paid.
I also got a job while I was there, and was finally able to send her a little money, but that didn’t last long and I was starting to realize Nashville was a bad idea. Not because of Nashville, but because of me and the company I kept.
A bunch of stuff just kept happening. See, crack is a dollar-a-minute drug. Dealer would pay me in dope, then after I had smoked up my quota, I wouldn’t want to drive them around. I wanted to be high all the time, and unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work. He didn’t sell enough dope to really make any money, so he couldn’t just give me as much as I wanted. It sucked.
We were always trying to figure out what to do with the day. They would have me pick them up each day, and we would get into something, whether it would be taking stolen goods that were traded to him for dope, to pawnshops, or stealing from stores, to taking the prostitute out to her calls. Nothing good happened while in the company of these people. In fact, at one point, the prostitute called us and told us to come up and rob one of her clients that was drunk. Of course, Dealer went right up and did that, with his brother in tow. And since it was my car, I became the getaway driver. It was insane. They told me that when they went into the room, the prostitute had made him get butt naked and when he was on the bed, opened the door for Dealer and his brother. They then took his pants and phone, told him not to get off the bed, and all three of them ran out of the room. I took off like a bat out of hell, and got on the freeway asap. I hated that I had to be a part of this but we made it away.
The next day, I was having problems starting my car. For the next few days I had to keep getting a jump for it. It was tiring. I found out that the battery had a bad cell and Dealer wasn’t about to pay for it. He said “it wasn’t my fault that you use all the dope I give you to get high. Why don’t you sell some of it and buy a battery?” which was the stupidest thing I had ever heard. I SMOKE crack, not SELL crack. Since they were using my vehicle, maintenance should have been at the top of the list of things that NEEDED to be done. But no, that was not the case at all. Instead, shortly after this, we went to Wal-Mart, and because I didn’t want to have to keep jumping the car, I simply walked into Wal-Mart, grabbed a battery off of the shelf, and walked right out the door.
Dealer and his brother were stupefied. They said they had never seen anything like what I did before. I told them that it was easy, and that I was going to hook this battery up and see if it worked. It did. Thankfully that was all it really needed. After that, I was a hero. Well for the time being.
A couple of days later, Dealer ended up getting arrested for something, and his brother called me and told me to come help get him out. I did, and I when I got there, he gave me a whole bunch of dope and told me to help him figure out a way. I had no idea what to do for him. But thankfully, somehow, just a couple of hours later, Dealer was released from jail, and we went to pick him up. We then went and picked up the prostitute and those 2 got her some heroin, a hotel room, and they had sex all night. I had to stay in my car. That was the thing: the prostitute loved having sex with Dealer. He was the only one that she WANTED to have sex with, whereas all of her clients were just that. Clients.
Also, one of the things that I hated about this woman was that she had a puppy that she didn’t take care of and would NOT get rid of. Whenever we would get a hotel room, she would leave the dog in the room while we were gone, and this animal would tear up the entire room. Whenever she would do a shot of dope while I was gone, she would nod out and this animal would tear up everything while she was there. And guess who had to come and clean up the mess each time. This caused all kinds of issues between us as well.
At one point after this, the Dealer and the prostitute got into an argument and they finally split. When this happened, I tried to make her leave Dealer alone, and not bother him because he was preventing me from taking advantage of this situation and getting the money that I deserved. Also, whenever he was around, she would talk bad about me and treat me terribly. With him out of the picture, I didn’t have to worry about her talking crap. She was at my mercy because I had the vehicle.
So, after this, I made her get back on her grind. She started turning tricks again, and that was helping me get high. This time, she had no choice but to pay me.
During this time, we had went and picked up her heroin dealer. I got a nice payday from the prostitute and bought like 2 grams of crack. It was the best payout I had had since we had hooked up.
We went to a park and were to wait on a guy to bring this dealer a pack of heroin. It was supposed to be a lot of dope. During the wait, I went into a port-a-potty and started masturbating while getting high. I was very paranoid and kept looking out the vents on top of it. Also, since I had already smoked some of my dope, I couldn’t get an erection. Crack will do that. I ended up not really getting anywhere, so I quit and went back to the car. Almost as soon as I got there, the dealer got his pack and came back to the car. He asked me if I had a problem dropping his buddy off. I told him nope, not at all, and off we went.
I drove up this hill, and at the corner, he jumped out. Just as he was jumping out, a cop pulled up to the corner. I acted nonchalant and drove off. The cop was heading the opposite direction of us, and so as soon as the guy was out of the car, the dealer told me get the heck out of there! I took off as quickly as possible until they were out of view, and then floored it!
I flew around the corner, the whole time the dealer telling me to find somewhere to park as fast as possible! I was like “I’m trying, I’m trying” and seen a Dollar General right down the road. I flew into a parking spot at an odd angle, but it was too late. The cop had seen where I was going.
He hit his blue lights and flew up on us. The dealer and the prostitute were already on their way out of the car, saying to me that they were going in to get some dog food for the dog and that is what I was supposed to tell the cop.
As they were jumping out though, the cops were there. They told them to get back into the car. I said to him when he came up to the car, “what are we doing wrong officer. I haven’t done anything wrong for you to tell me what to do.”
At this, he told me to shut up. He told me that he knew what was going on and even spoke to the dealer by name. He then asked me to get out of the car and to give him my ID.
He pulled me around back of the car, and spoke to me plainly saying “I know what you guys are doing. If I search this vehicle, I’m going to find something.” I said to him “and if you do find something, I am going to be the one in trouble huh?” At this he said, “Yep”. He knew I was afraid because the heroin that the dealer had on him was going to be my responsibility. I was actually terrified, but told him that if he had to search it, to search it.
At this point in time, the cop that was with him came up to me and handed me my ID back, saying that “I wasn’t in the system”. The scariest part was that I had handed him my ID and NOT my driver’s license, because I didn’t HAVE a drivers license. So when this cop came back and said I was clear, I was completely stupefied.
Right then and there, the cop that was questioning me told me that I needed to get in my car and drive away, but that I was not to let the dealer get back in my car.
This was unfathomable. I was supposed to go to jail for the heroin that was hidden in my car seats. On top of that, I had a gram of crack laying in a pile in my center console. All they would have to do is look and all the responsibility fell on me. But they didn’t. They knew the heroin wasn’t mine, and if they were to search, they wouldn’t be able to get the dealer, only me. It wasn’t the dealers time to be caught yet, and so miraculously they let me go, even though I was obviously on crack/cocaine right in front of them. This was just another incidence of divine intervention.
They pulled off. The dealer jumped in and I told them that the cops told me to not let him back in. He said, “forget about them. They are already gone.” I was terrified again.
He told me to take him back up the hill and to drop him off. I did as he said and got him as far away from me as possible. Forget that guy.
The prostitute wanted to get a hotel and just chill after that situation. So did I. I just wanted to smoke my crack and come. I was a nervous wreck. So, we just chilled.
She kept talking about Dealer though and unfortunately, a few days later, she ended up bringing him back into her life, and so her nasty attitude started again.
On top of all of this, every time that I got some dope, wherever we were at, I wanted to go into the bathroom and masturbate. Dealer, his brother and the prostitute all hated me for it. Wherever we were, I would be in the bathroom for about 15 minutes and when we were over at one of their peoples house, I would take my dope and go into their bathroom, thus shutting down the bathroom wherever we were. The owners of the dope houses we would go to would start knocking on the door, telling me to come out. I was getting tired of being interrupted.
To top it all off, the prostitute wasn’t paying me like I was supposed to be paid, and so, after about 4 days of Dealer being back in our lives, I got really pissed off.
When she and Dealer walked into his house (where his baby mama and son lived), I resolved to drive off, with all of her belongings in my possession. We are talking $2,000 worth of clothes, lingerie and other valuables, I didn’t care. I had had enough. I pulled off, drove to my buddy’s house and told them to call the cocaine man. When he showed up, I promptly sold all of the prostitutes things for a gram of coke, then went to Wal-Mart, returned a DVD player that Dealer had just, which I had the receipt to, and put that money in my tank and stomach.
While at the gas station, I decided to called Lucy from the store phone and told her I was going somewhere else, that this was a mistake and that I was going to try a new area. I told her I loved her, and that I didn’t have much gas but I was going to figure out a way.
The attendant heard me say this, and was nice enough to put $25 more in my tank. I really needed that and appreciated it. Right then and there I hit the road. I decided to head to South Carolina, specifically, Charleston. I was off.