On my way to Ravenna I got on the wrong train from Bologna, but I could have sworn I was on the right train because Ravenna is by the sea and most of the people on my train looked like beach bums, so how could I go wrong?
Which got me thinking to my younger days when I was a bit of a misfit myself. Did I ever tell you about the two crack houses I lived in or the time I almost got arrested in Grand Cayman?
Well, I’ve got an hour to kill on the train now (hopefully on the way to Ravenna), so let me enlighten you. Oh, and mom and dad, if you’re reading this, Stop Now!
So, lets see, crack house number one was in Toledo, Ohio. I was touring with my boyfriends band and got tired of living on the road with a bunch of dudes and decided to go live with a couple of girls (groupies of the band) for a while. I even got a waitressing job at the same bar as them. These were cool girls. They were rock and rolls finest and often drove from city to city to meet up with the band members. What I didn’t know was that the basement of their house was full of drugs!
I guess you could say I was pretty naive back then because the reason I was living in the U.S. in the first place was to escape my drug dealing boyfriend back in Canada (who decided to give me a black eye for Christmas). Anyways, when I finally clued in to the fact that my roommates were also drug dealers only chicks and much cooler, I got the hell out of there!
Fast forward 10 years and I find myself in Grand Cayman! I found the cutest little bachelor apartment across from the beach in West Bay and I’m all set. Then one of my friends informs me that my apartment used to be the local drug dealers pad! He even told me he used to hide his money in the microwave…strange because so did I!
Now, let me be clear about one thing here. I’ve tried pot and it makes me vomit. I’ve never touched cocaine or injected or snorted anything in my life. But obviously I have been in quite close proximity to many who have. My attitude has always been to each his own. That is until I almost got arrested in Grand Cayman!
My hippy friend from California was a pot headed chef. She was 20 years old and smoked pot regularly. It was our day off and we decided to hang out at the beach. She smoked, someone called the cops and twenty minutes later we were being interrogated and searched by some perverted local cop. I was clean…she wasn’t! She got arrested! I got sent home to find bail money for my friend…what???
Long story short, he took her passport and released her then bribed her with sex to get her passport back. Sad but true and this was in 2001. So, I hate to be the dull granny here but I have clearly had enough close calls in my life and quite prefer to stay at home with Coco where the strongest drug in our house is catnip.
Like I said. To each his own, but can all you trouble makers just get off my train. Ooops, turns out I was on the wrong train, whew, another close call. Party on dude!
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