Butrflies Are Not Meant To Be Caged

This whole “Paris Hilton: Jailbird” debacle brought back some memories for me.

I’m going to guess it was about seven years ago that The Man’s sister, HHH, had just gotten in a fight with one of her ‘baby daddies’ – asking him to sign off his rights to the kid. This guy, naturally outraged, decided to call the police and report that our friend, Drunk Shady, (SO many reasons for this name) was drunk and a minor. He was, but what a lame reason to call!

We stopped at Taco Hell for lunch and I saw a cop very suspiciously driving around another parking lot.

After we finished, Drunk Shady, The Man’s little sister, Si, and I went out to the car for a smoke. HHH was still inside with the kids. We weren’t halfway done with our cigarette when the cop pulled up behind the Cavalier and asked for ID. Drunk Shady, being the annoying drunk that he is, argued with the nice officer. Dumb Drunk Shady. He told us he’d been called about minors drinking. I, the adorable responsible kiss ass, tried to talk to the officer and let him know that we weren’t causing any trouble – that Ex was just mad at HHH.

HHH came out with the kids confused and we explained what was going on. Glaring at Drunk Shady, she handed her ID over to the cop. He told us all to sit tight while he ran his checks.

He shocked us all when he told HHH that he needed to take her in – she had a warrant.

“What am I supposed to do!?” I asked her. “What about the kids!?”

“I don’t know!” She said, “Take them to my moms!”

And that’s what we did. We went back to her mom’s and said, “Sorry, HHH went to jail, I can’t take care of them!”

So, Drunk Shady, Si and I – completely broke – had to get back out to her house. I stopped in at my mom’s second husband’s house and asked him for some cash. He gave me enough for gas and smokes. Then we headed back to the trailer an hour away.

Meanwhile, back at Taco Hell, the officer asks HHH: “So I don’t suppose you know where I can find this Amy friend of yours, huh?”

“Umm, no?” HHH responded.

“That’s what I thought.” Said the cop. “Looks like she has a warrant out there, too, just didn’t come up quick enough.”

When she called me from jail that night, she told me about this. I nearly peed myself. ME!? Cute, LITTLE me!? A Warrant!? WTF For!?

“Remember when we rescheduled our court dates?” She said, “Well, they use paper instead of computers for that so they issued a non-appearance warrant before the reschedule went through.”

“So you can get out?”

“Oh, no,” she replied, “They’re going to make me go to court now…after the weekend. You better stay out of trouble or you’ll be in here with me!”

We had no food, one packet of Kool-Aid, half a cup of sugar and a giant bottle of Sour Apple Pucker. I think it was about halfway through the bottle that the power was shut off. All in all – a really bad weekend.

BUT! Not nearly as bad as it could have been, right? I mean – ME! In jail! I can only imagine…curled up in a ball, sobbing to myself, refusing their ‘food.’ I would have been a wreck. A complete, psychological WRECK. Yet…I still would have served more time than Paris would have, had they let her complete her house arrest. (That is NOT a punishment!) And I highly doubt a few tears from a poor girl would have the effect that they did coming from Miss Hotel Heiress.

I don’t feel like testing my theory – but I know I’m right.

PS – Dying to know why I was in court in the first place? A traffic ticket! Come on! I’m a good girl! (Mostly.) ;)