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    Diary of a Mad Addict . . . Chapter 32

    To my utter amazement, shock and awe, from the inside of the hollow leg fell bottles of pills, hundreds of them, hitting the ground and popping open all over the roadway.

    As the officer continued shaking the leg, he began to gather the pills in a pile by sweeping them with his feet. After making a nice, neat, almost anal mound of soon to be evidence, he spotted my leather Dyke Drama Club jacket in front of the Olds. I watched him pick up the tattered piece of clothing, shake it, examine it, then fold it over neatly, smile, and walk towards the cruiser in which I was sitting observing the unbelievable events unfolding before me. He nodded to me as he handed the jacket to my guardian and said something to her which I did not hear but knew it had to be about me as they both looked my way when he spoke.

    Not wanting to know what they were saying, I looked back to the old man as he hobbled with help to the other patrol car. He slowly turned his head toward me, as if in slow motion, and he smiled, or so I imagined. Then I swear to Bette that I heard him say, “She didn’t cheat on you, you fucking moron.”

    I sat straight up in the backseat , turned directly the old man and yelled through the closed window “What did you say?” . I wanted to be sure I had heard him correctly and wondered how he knew.

    But when he spoke again I could clearly, without a doubt read his lips as he mouthed the word “ASSHOLE” and I wondered if he said that because I had nearly killed him or because I had falsely accused K of cheating on me.

    From the other side of the patrol car, my arresting officer opened the door across from me and tossed my leather jacket onto the seat beside me. “He said she didn’t cheat on you and I can tell you she didn’t.” The officer closed the door and left me there with my mouth hanging open hoping to ask a question which never emerged from my mouth.

    “By the way, that officer over there said he saw you in your club’s last production ‘FUCK VIRGINA WOLFE, WHO’S AFRAID OF PAT ROBERTSON?’ He thought you were pretty good.”

    Comments

    1. “That’s Victor Mattucci, big time senior drug dealer, bingo boss, and bookie.” – You haven’t loss your touch Beach…still just as crazy as ever!!! Nice to see you back. Took you long enough!! I mean, I know you are busy eating donuts and playing in that big sand box of yours, but come on…!!! :)

    2. Glad you are back. I miss the last post so I read them back by back. They are great, funny and crazy. I like the way you write. Thanks to share your story and please continue…

    3. O Thank God, Your Back! I was afraid you had tossed off this mortal coil, or been committed. Love your work. I’ve missed K and Beach like crazy.Thanks for posting.

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