What Happens in Vegas…
The Felony Saga part 3
We fly to Vegas, I’m a wanted man.
I forgot to tell you before, I was told that if I had ever gotten pulled over by the police, I would have been arrested on the spot and held until they got in touch with Metro and found out if they wanted to extradite me. Good thing I drive the speed limit. Right?!? I can’t even imagine how that would have played out. Anywho back to the story.
We land in Vegas, rent a car, check into the hotel, and then we had the bright idea of driving to the police station to see if Kimberly can get any information. Look hindsight is 20/20, right? We were stressed beyond belief and were just trying to get any information that we could. Taking a man with an arrest warrant to a police station, probably not the best idea. We get to the police station, hold on a second, let me pass the keyboard to Kimberly for what happened inside.
In all fairness my thought process was, they’ll tell me if I go into the police station and ask very nicely for information…. wellllllll that’s not quite how it went. I told Jason to wait in the car and keep his phone and I’ll text him if anything happens. So, I walk into the police station and tell the nice officer at the counter what the situation is and ask if they can give me any information, she says, “where is your husband now” in this moment all I could think was they’re going to arrest him right now, soooooo I lie, “he’s at the hotel”, she responds “what hotel”, I tell her. She asked for my ID, ummmm okay ma’am, here it is. I hand over my ID and she says, “wait here”. Anyone reading this, here’s my public service announcement, don’t lie to the police, it causes all kinds of physical issues, like hives, panic attacks, etc. This is where I realize I may very well be getting arrested too….. because I just became an accomplice to the fugitive currently IN THE CAR IN THE PARKING LOT of the POLICE STATION. I sit down in the chair where she told me to wait and text as fast as I possibly can, “RUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN”……
Hold up, hold up, hold up, I have to jump back in for a second.
I’m sitting in the car, trying to NOT look suspicious. Have you ever tried to NOT look suspicious? Guess what? You look REALLY suspicious!!! So, I’m sitting in the car and the text I receive just says, “RUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN”…… No context, no instructions, just… “run”. So, what do I do? I run… non suspiciously though… right! I’m out! I’m trying to get outta there as fast as I can without looking like I’m running from the police on their home court. I have to imagine it looked something like this, you remember when you would be at the pool and playing tag or whatever and running trying to get the other person and your mom yells at you to stop running, so you super powerwalk saying, “I’m not running?” That’s what I imagine. Ok I gotta get some cover, that’s what people do right? Get cover. I remember that from the war movies, “Get to cover!!!”
I go into Roberto’s Taco Shop and beeline for the back, against the wall, so I can see all of the entrances and have my escape ready. That was really my thought. I left my wallet in the car, genius move, so I can’t even buy a soda to look like I belong in there. I’m just the sketchy guy twitching in the back. Then the cops walk in.
I freeze, I totally just froze, cause you can’t see me if I’m perfectly still, right? Look, I’ve seen Infinity War, I know how this is supposed to work. Shout out to Drax. No master escape plan, no foot chase, just sitting there watching them scan the room, as they do, and then they walk right to the guy at the register and… order their lunch… because Roberto’s is delicious! Ok… back to you Love.
Approximately 6,552 minutes later she comes out and hands me my ID and says, “you go to court on Wednesday, right” “yes ma’am”. “Make sure you’re there!” I think I squeaked out the word “okay” and calmly walk back to my empty car and drive away, praying Jason ran for his life and saved himself. I back out slowly and text Jason (don’t text and drive people) to find out where he is. I find him and he gets in the car, and we head to the hotel.
Annnnd… breathe. Ok we go back to the hotel.
So now it’s Tuesday, the day before court, the day before I’m about to be arrested. My phone rings, it’s the Regional Director from Dollar General, “Hey man, how’s it going?”
“Uuuuuh… I’m doing well sir, how about you?”
“Good, good, man. Hey, you got anything going on tomorrow? There’s a spot opening up soon and the Divisional VP might want to talk to you tomorrow”
Like I said, you can’t make this up.
“Well sir, I’m in Vegas at the moment, I gotta take care of some stuff tomorrow, not quite sure when I’m gonna be done.”
“No worries man, give me a call tomorrow when you’re free.”
Free? That’s a cute word.
“Yes sir, will do, have a great day.” Dodged that bullet like Neo in the Matrix.
Wednesday… court day. Kimberly drives us to the courthouse, and we park in a nearby lot. I’m absolutely terrified, trying to be brave for Kimberly. Meanwhile, she broke out in hives due to the stress, like bad, like bad, bad!
We go in and sit at the front and await some answers.
The bailiff took role and asked us if we needed a public defender. Sign me up! We had to fill out some paperwork with our income and stuff, then we got approved to have a public defender. She comes in, introduces herself to all of us that needed a public defender and then goes and sits down to wait for the judge to come in. It takes quite a while; people keep coming in and out of the courtroom and they are all whispering to each other. They let us know that it’s going to be a while longer.
I use this time as an opportunity to go and speak to my attorney. “Excuse me, ma’am? While we are waiting, is there any way that you can tell me why I’m here?” She looks puzzled. Like, how do you not know why you’re here. “I mean, I have no idea what this is about, I don’t know what I’m being accused of.” She was thoroughly confused; I broke it down and told her the story. She says that this is a first for her and asked if I wanted to look at the police report. YES PLEASE!!!!
We scramble and look through this novel of a police report filled out by the manager of a storage unit. I was being accused of breaking into a storage unit in the middle of the night, driving a big black truck. He said that I stuck my arm in between the gates and broke them open, drove in, and went to break into a few of the storage units. I believe the exact term to describe me was, “a giant mountain of a man.” He said that I was wearing a hoodie and kept my head down because he could tell that I knew where all of the cameras were, but at the very last second… I paused… and looked up… directly into the camera. It said that he would recognize and know it was me; if he sees a giant man, with a shiny head.
Really??? Like, really, really????
He continued, then three days later, he saw my driver’s license pass across his desk and he knew exactly who it was! Apparently, I started an argument with the other manager the day before, threw a fit yelling and screaming, then said that I was closing my account because of all of their BS, then I loaded all of the stuff from my storage unit into my big black truck and drove off. He said that he had all of this on video. With me, my shiny head, and big black truck on both occasions.
What, the what???
Next part of the report, the manager asks the officer to give him a few days to get the video recording together, but when the officer returned, guess what… his “incompetent assistant manager” recorded over the video, ohhhhhh no, sad face!
News flash, there was no video… because IT NEVER HAPPENED!!!!!
So, all of this is based off this dude’s “word”? What the hell is our world coming to? Ok, the brain starts to process and put things together. This happened when I flew out to Vegas to pack up my storage unit and ship it out to North Carolina. This was where I had the storage unit, but I was in a white Uhaul truck with a pod on a trailer. I never had a big black truck.
Hold up!!!!! I can PROVE I didn’t do it right here, right now! Thank goodness. “Baby, can you pull up the email from almost 2 years ago that has the flight information on it that PROVES that I wasn’t even in Vegas when the first break in occurred?”
Kimberly is a whiz at this kinda stuff, she should have been a detective or PI or something. She found it! There it is… The first break in happened a full 2 days before I got to Vegas. Saved by the email. I rush back to my attorney. “Ma’am, I have proof that I didn’t do this!!! I have plane tickets that show I was in North Carolina at the time of the first break in. Alls I need to do is talk to the judge and show her. Then I don’t need to be arrested and we can get this all taken care of today. Whew! Yeah, that is super convenient, only the court system doesn’t really work that way.
“I’m sorry sir, but this is only to make a plea, and then you get arrested. We don’t get to show any evidence at this time. That comes later. It might have been okay with the original judge, but she had to go home sick, the one replacing her is kind of a jerk. He won’t listen to anything that you have to say, aside from ‘guilty’ or ‘not guilty’. I’ll call you up when it’s our turn.”
I go back to the benches, sit next to Kimberly, tell her what happened, and try not to break down in tears. The new judge comes in and starts the proceedings. I’m dying inside. I’ve tried to do the right thing my whole life, and this is what it comes down to. Falsely accused of felony burglary, and I can’t even plead my case to the judge? Life sucks!
An hour or two goes by and they call my name, I am terrified! All of these emotions a swirling around my head. I stand in the front and he asks me how I plead…
Gretzky famously said, “You miss 100% of the shots that you don’t take.”
I’ve always been more of a basketball kinda guy, but the concept is the same. Time is running down, I’m down by 2. I shake the first layer of defense, pull up a jumper with a hand in the face…
“Your Honor.”
And from the three-point line. 3… 2… 1… I shoot my shot.
“If I may have just a moment of the DA’s time, I can prove here and now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am innocent.”
The ball hits the rim, ricochets off the glass annnnnnnd…
“The DA is busy. How do you plead?”
“Your honor, please?”
It hits the rim again and bounces up…
The judge says, “If the DA wants to talk to you during the break, that’s up to him.”
The DA says, “We’ll talk to him your honor.”
IT GOES IN!!!!!!! YES!
The break comes.
The ref’s whistle blows.
The DA looks at some papers, looks at me, he walks to my attorney, says something to her, and… walks out of the court room.
The ref’s hand raises, with 2 fingers up, signaling that it was only a 2 pointer. My foot was on the line.
My attorney comes over to me and says, “The DA went over the complaint and said that it is clearly you in the description, so there is no way that he’s going to dismiss this.”
We’re going into OVER TIME folks!!!!
But I’m not gonna make you wait till next Thursday, It will be up this weekend.
