I do not remember what time the officers grabbed me that night, but I was on the dance floor in a nightclub called the Lonestar and all seemed to be perfect. I suspect perception has plenty to do with beliefs in life, and in this instance my ability to assess my environment accurately was extremely clouded. The next thing I can remember was being pressed to the ground by two police officers, while undergoing questioning and being told I was being placed into protective custody. The clear reason for this was my being a minor in possession of alcohol and obviously diminished in my faculties.
When the bars to the cell finally opened, I had yet to sober up from the previous night’s apparent unruly, crass, and uncontrolled alcohol-induced behavior. Honestly though, I had very little recollection of the entire night beyond arriving at the club with friends. Even today, I am uncertain as to the day of the week. However, I can remember this fact; I had about ten minutes to arrive for my job at the bakery. Fortunately, I was being held in a cell in the same town, and the two locations were about ten minute walking distance apart. Fortune is how I looked at it at that time too. I was always trying to rationalize negative circumstances, and this stems from the dysfunctional mindset of an addict. I arrived at work barely on time and in a complete stupor, yet sure of my co-workers ignorance, and more importantly my boss’. I manage to drag myself through the morning with as few errors as possible and headed home for some much needed sleep and of course a fist full of aspirin. I had traversed those unexpected events with the skill of a crime scene investigator, I thought, and that success would only act as a catalyst for continued personal abuse. I had not been drinking for all that long at this time and my problems were only just beginning. I was after all just a teenager and my ignorance, ego, and youth kept me blind to the reality of how