I haven’t posted. I feel like it’s not as easy as I thought. Life is getting harder everyday. I failed to be rich, good, I’m poor now, dirt poor, my home is a mess. I was a nurse, I didn’t conform to normal white middle class life. I know what to write now. Before I die. It’s getting closer. Death. Happens to us all. Very few will mourn me. I’m a nobody. But I lived. I tried marriage. Didn’t work, I screwed up my virginity with a Lakewood sheriff in 1982 before my husband who always treated me #2. He loved his first wife Pam so much and I wasn’t fat enough. I was too skinny! 😥 he liked fat women. He married me to get the kids. I got them but he called Pam still. 900$ phone bill back then. It was hell if not for Pammy my stepdaughter I’d have killed myself. I love her still. Then Pam took them back. My husband went and lived next door to her and her new husband. I was alone. Thank God I didn’t get pregnant. Then I drank my sorrows in nightclubs and with the police. Yes, I was a groupie, sorta. No sex. Hung out at the”Short stop”. Joseph Wambach, the writer wrote about the bar in his books. I found it. Became a regular. Every night at 9, I’d head to the pink neon sign on sunset blvd, in the worst part of east L.A. We had a lot of fun. Everyone carried a gun. Perfectly safe right? You don’t realise how much stress that job causes. I wrote poems about them and hung them on the wall of the Short stop. Cops in rampart drank there. Later it was found out the rampart division had the highest criminal activity among cops. We were always drunk!!!!
I stopped the tale then. Today I’ll finish it: I am aware I didn’t finish the story. I’ve been writing it in a notebook. Got 4 chapters so far. I really had a lot of strange experiences with the cops. Not everyone will laugh and like it. The fact is my story exposes cops for the truth of the matter… It’s a thankless job, people hate cops it’s in vogue…. But I saw the truth of what they deal with. Several unauthorised ride alongs showed me a lot. Like when we drove through the projects I was a white bitch…. Gang bangers gazed hatefully at me and shouted “get out of here white bitch, this is our turf! ” it was scary. And getting shot at! I lay on the floor of the patrol car and prayed… The suspect finally gave up. It was scary. After an evening of that kind of crap of course you’re hyped up and want a drink to wind down. Sadly the job keeps getting worse. And so does the drinking… I’ll finish the book. Everyone who reads my blog get a copy. Otherwise Amazon. 🙂 think I can actually finish this? I sure hope so. I need a goal. I need to let out 57 years of life on pages. This was but one little part.
RayeAnn aka Circle-pi