This Can’t Be Happening
The Felony Saga part 2
…uuudge!!!!
“Oh, yes sir, it’s all right here… warrant for the arrest of Jason Hull Grice, felony burglary. Ohhhh it says that they have video footage too.”
Hold up, hold up, what are the symptoms of a stroke again? It’s auditory hallucinations, right? Is that what’s going on here? Am I having a stroke? I’m totally having a stroke, aren’t I?
Wait a sec, let’s reassess the situation here.
I try to speak, but suddenly I’m mute. Nothing comes out. Nothing. Hmmm… hallucinations and mutism, gotta be a stroke! My throat has gone completely dry, like Vegas in the summer dry. I try and clear my throat, ehem. “Excuse me? What was that last part again?”
She confidently replies, “It says here that they have video footage too.” About 3 seconds of silence pass by. I squeak out, “I’m sorry… one more time.”
“It says on the report here, that they have video footage sir.”
I hear Inigo Montoya in my head, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means, what you think it means.” I love The Princess Bride and all, but now is not the time for a full mental breakdown.
Now the flood gates open, “That’s impossible, I’ve never burgaled anyone before! I don’t even live in Vegas anymore! This has got to be a mistake! This can’t be right! There is no way possible that this is happening right now!” “What does it say that I did?”
Then she has the audacity… to say… with her out loud voice, “Oh, I can’t tell you that. This is still an active investigation.”
“Wait?!?! What?!?! Hold up, you’re telling me, that I have a warrant… for….MY…arrest….. and you can’t tell ME what it’s for??? How is that even a thing?”
“Yes sir, that’s what I’m telling you.” So panic ensues. I ask for the DA’s office number, I ask for the Public Defender’s office number, I ask who the detective is over the case, I even ask who the judge is that I am assigned to. I hang up the phone and just sit there, staring off into space with a blank look on my face trying to figure out what the heck is going on here. I call Kimberly, what was supposed to be a triumphant phone call where I tell her I knew that she was wrong, turned into me just sputtering.
Little known fact, when I get severely, emotionally stressed out I, “lose my words,” that’s what I call it anyways. Basically I stutter, like real bad. I feel incredibly vulnerable during these times. Logically, I know that I shouldn’t feel bad about it, but when I stutter, I feel less than, I feel broken, I feel ashamed that I can’t control it. I feel like a small child who is in the middle of chaos and can’t do anything about it. I know what I want to say, my brain just jumps in and says, “Nah, you got nothing.” For lack of a better analogy, it sounds like a DJ scratching the turntable back and forth, but won’t let the song continue. So at these times, when I either feel it coming on or I am trying to talk with no luck, it looks like I just shutdown. From the outside it looks like I can’t handle the situation. In all actuality, I stop trying to talk or respond because I know that if I keep trying, Rage follows. Rage and I don’t hang out anymore. We used to kick it all the time, but I have worked very hard to not fall into old habits. So I just stay silent, with a lot of internal self-hatred. Anyways, this was one of those moments. Kimberly is very good with me. She knows what to say and how to say it to help me through these moments. I am a very lucky man to have her.
Back to the story. I let Kimberly know that it was real. I was freaking out. I had to take care of this ASAP. I calmed down a bit then I called my District Manager and gave him a brief rundown of what was going on and I asked him if I could take a week of vacation the next week to go handle all of this. Graciously, he let me take it. I’ll be honest the exact details of the order of all of this get a bit cloudy, it’s all true, just maybe not in the right order.
I call… everyone. I called the DA’s office, “Nope, can’t help you.” I called the public Defender’s office, “Can’t help until you get to court.” I called Metro, the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department, they were not giving me any information. I just didn’t understand how I could have charges against me, but wasn’t allowed to know what was going on. I had one last resort, I looked up the judge’s information online and found the number to her chambers. God bless the internet! I called, no one answered, so I left a message asking her to call me back. Did I expect her to call me back? No, no I did not. No one else would help me or listen to me, why would a judge call me back?
Why? Because it’s the right thing to do, that’s why. The judge called me back the next day and I went into my panicked explanation. “Ma’am no one will talk to me to tell me what is going on I’m sure that you hear this all of the time but I didn’t do anything I wasn’t even living in Vegas when this happened I don’t even know what happened I don’t know what to do.” She was very kind, she explained that it is an arrest warrant, not a bench warrant. She could dismiss a bench warrant, but I HAD to be arrested. There was no way around it.
“Ok ma’am, well I guess I’ll see you next week.”
She said, “You are going to fly out here?”
“Yes ma’am, I have to get this taken care of, I’ve never been in any real trouble before. I can’t have this looming over my head, I gotta get this taken care of now.” She told me that she would put me on the docket for next Wednesday, she will see me then, at which point I will need to be arrested. “Yes, ma’am. I will see you Wednesday.” So now I started to try to mentally prepare myself for being arrested and going to jail.
Well, this sucks more than anything has ever sucked before!
Kimberly started booking last minute flights, rental cars, and hotels, those are always cheap at the last minute, yeah right. She booked one way flights because we didn’t know if I was coming home or not. For all that we knew, I go to court, get arrested, and can’t afford to make bail and I’m stuck in Vegas. Not to mention, I was recovering from a broken foot, so I had a soft cast on, I take meds for depression and anxiety among other things, oh yeah, and I need a CPAP machine to make sure that I breathe when I sleep, or you know, I might die.
This all just intensified my anxiety and depression.. We had no idea what was going on, no idea why it was going on, and no idea what the outcome would be. The Carolina Kids were worried that I would go all Chewbacca and freak out, roar, and start scrapping with the officers when they tried to handcuff me. They were also telling Kimberly, “I know that Jason is gonna be upset, but tell him not to get into fights in jail! Tell him not to lose his temper! That would be bad.”
Yes… yes it would be.
They say, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
Am I what happens in Vegas????
I guess we’ll find out, next Thursday, with the conclusion of…
