It was exhilarating to steal something and get away to show it off . At first it was always the mall or a drug store.

Spencer's gifts got nailed on the regular. We would show up as the mall opened and the one employee in the store at the time , couldn't watch three or four guys. We liked that store because of all the pop culture t-shirts. After our fill of t-shirts, we hit the music stores and stole CD'S. They were just coming out with those loss prevention tags inside the case, so we would cut the whole cd out and leave the rest behind.

When Jeff had met Doughboys cousin Jenny in the fall, she begged him to come to Pennsylvania and visit. By the time the holidays had rolled around, Jeff talked nonstop about driving up there to surprise her. I'm not sure what made Jeff want to drive all that way but he sure convinced Paul to supply the ride. They had some sort of agreement worked out that Jeff would pay for the gas and Pauls food. I know that that fat ginger would never do anything for free especially driving that far for some girl he wasn't gonna ****.

So, here we are on I-95 headed north in a two tone salvaged Buick somerset . It's winter time and the car doesn't have heat and the passenger window stops an inch from sealing at the top. Clothes are massively piled behind the drivers seat and my little nook is barely enough to move my arms around.

I don't really mind the discomfort, I'm with friends.

I don't remember going to sleep on the ride but I sure remember waking up. As Paul drove up into the mountains, the snow started coming down harder. Any sensible person would have pulled over and waited . Paul wasn't very sensible and kept driving up a mountain in a snowstorm.

When he finally freaked out about possibly driving over the side of the mountain in a haze of white , he screamed at me and Jeff to wake up and get out to help direct him the right way. Luckily, we didn't have that far to go before the roads were better maintained.

We stopped at the first rest area coming off the mountain . Right away I was impressed that it was so well kept and clean. There were coffee and hot chocolate machines inside a big glassed rotunda . Back in NC its a Pepsi machine and a Lance potato chips machine tucked into a breezeway.

I was so enthusiastic about those machines that the janitor lady threatened to call the cops. I have always wondered why she did it. I know it was in the middle of the night but I wasn't up to no good. She didn't have to worry though because we were leaving anyway. Isn't that how it always goes?

I felt like I was invincible. I was in Pennsylvania and it was the farthest north I had ever been.

We were about to arrive at her family's home and they didn't know we were coming . I had assumed this trip was planned out by Jenny and Jeff. In fact , it was a surprise visit , which our good friend Jeff neglected to inform us before we started this 10 hour journey. Jeff was so infatuated with her that he was willing to do anything to see her. Lucky for him , her parents were really , really cool . They had a very nice house in the suburbs and there was space for three backwoods idiots to camp in a spare room.

It was the five family members , mom , dad, Jenny, younger sister and baby brother. It was the perfect time of year as school was out for the holiday season and there was lots of fresh snow.

I totally expected to be shunned by her parents since the only person they had met prior to us showing up at their door was Jeff. Paul was obviously older and I was just there as a ride along. Me being an adult now, I would have kicked us out on the spot had I been that girls father.

Instead, we got the red carpet treatment, food made to order, extra clothes to go sledding , offers of money and rides if anyone wanted to go off separate.

In return , we were on our best behavior there at the house. Only when we left, did our hooligan schemes start. We decided the cheapest place to hang out for a while was the mall. Paul drove us all over, The two sisters and me and Jeff.

It was a great big mall. Huge. Two stories and TWO foodcourts! You know you have made it as a mall if you need that much food. Right away there was a spencers, and yes I nailed them for some stuff. I even got a store shopping bag and started loading up!

One bag turned into two. I would go into any store that didn't have the sensor posts at the door and load up. It was much easier than back home. I guess me being young and white disqualified me from being a shoplifter. As I loaded up shirts, hats, jeans, cologne, Jeff, incredulous that I had so much free stuff, did the same as I was doing. We finally got so scared we would be stopped with bags full of goods with no receipts , we booked it to the car and left.

One of the first nights we went out to cruise , we stopped at this all night diner that had a sign about having the worlds best hot chocolate. I didn't have any money and I had to barter my new stuff with Paul to get some of that hot chocolate. While we were there , Jenny happened to see her ex-boyfriend . He wasn't over the breakup and came to our table and said some nasty stuff to her and Jeff who was beside her.

Jeff is a hothead. He has a lot of family issues and he is way out there with craziness when he gets angry. There was a suggestion to take this outside and finish talking about it. The ex went back to his table and talked it over with his group before settling back into the booth and angrily looking away.

We drank the super creamy hot chocolate , which was pretty damn good. We were getting many looks from everyone since the confrontation so we decided to go back to her parents. We headed out to the car and as we did, the ex's group got up too.

Outside we didn't run away , but we didn't feed into the obvious baiting they were trying to get us into. We piled into the piece of **** somerset and pulled out of the parking lot. I was in the back and as I looked back to see if they were just trying to save face with coming outside as we left, I seen the car they were riding in turn out behind us.

I told Jeff they were behind us . At that exact moment I realized I didn't really want to be around Jeff that much anymore. He reached under the passenger seat and pulled out a beat up ass twenty-two revolver and said , "Paul , pull over in the next empty store lot"...

I immediately said, "_UCK NO " !!! We are a long way from home and that's gonna get us in big trouble."

Jeff relented but talked a lot of **** and the plan was to still pull over and fight . Those idiots pulled right in behind us in this strip mall parking lot. I had the worst feeling of all time getting out of the car . I had never been in any real fights and was scared. I knew being punched in the face hurt very bad and I didn't want to deal with that again.

It was a usual whiteboy standoff thank god. A couple of good chestbumping staredowns , combined with a finger pointed in the face and then the threat of getting your ass kicked worked pretty good on these guys. They got in their car and left.

Once again, I'm invincible. I have bluffed a guy in Pennsylvania into thinking he will get whooped .

Jeff and Jenny never seen each other again after this trip . Chalk it up to teenage love I guess.

There were limitations on the other kids in the crew. Once it was apparent that Jeff and Paul were gonna steal at any given chance, WW and doughboy Backed off quite a bit.
Doughboy had his dad somewhat in his life and he was military . Dough was always scared his dad would pull up in the driveway out of nowhere and beat his ass. He was very cautious as to what he would get involved in. Looking back, Doughboy was a smart cat. He went on to college where I believe he played a little football. I didn't talk to him much after this time period. It seems that what was about to happen over the next year would alter lives forever.

WW lived with his mom in town in the mill house section of town, right off of main street. Once again the father not around scenario comes into play. WW was probably the blackest white guy in our group. He kept his tv on BET 24/7 and even though I like rap music I just could not watch that show all day , everyday. His driveway had the shortened basketball goal that all the close by kids loved to play on after school. It was always a race to try and play some ball, smoke some weed and play some tonk before Marciadogg got home. That was our nickname for his mom. Once she got home, everybody had to go. She liked to talk a lot of **** as we all left her house.

After school was always a clamoring of kids piling into friends cars and then cruising down main street before they went separate ways. We were no different . The only other kid in our group with a car was Treefrog. I had known the other guys since the summer and didn't have any classes with Frog , so we never crossed paths much. He had an old cream colored Chevy Malibu and he had an actual real job. He also had a dad at home who kept him straight.

One of these afternoons after school, Jeff needed a ride to Smithfield and of course, I was the bitch. By the time we had got there and was headed back, it was getting dark. I have no clue to why I decided to try and be cool , but I happened to be close to Mark and Matthews neighborhood, the same kids who we stole our parents cars together.

I pulled into the neighborhood and went down a random street and pulled over into a dark shadowy part of the street. I walked up to a random house, that had 5 cars parked out front. I walked over to a little green Ford ranger and opened the unlocked door. To my amazement, there sat a big Browning 30/06 . I grabbed the gun, ran back to my car where my friends were sitting and drove out of there with a brand new rifle. I mean brand new!

We could not believe it. I could not believe it. I thought about selling it immediately. I took them home and then drove to Hidden Valley with my new rifle.


The next morning, I'm in 3rd period English , when I decide to ask the redneck kid sitting beside me if he wants to buy a rifle. He says , "sure, what kind is it. ?"

"It's a browning 30/06 , brand new , with a scope and gold trigger"..

I seen his face change from openness to disbelief. He said, "My buddy had a gun just like that stolen last night. Where did you get it.?"

I was at school in the next town over and the first person I tried to sell the gun to , knew the owner . There was no way this redneck was not gonna tell his friends I stole the gun.

I tried to play it off , but the more I talked the more agitated he got. He actually left class and went to the guys BROTHER who ALSO went to the same school I was inside right now.... His Brother was the number one dickhead redneck in the whole school.


And I had stole his brand new hunting rifle while he was at his girlfriends house....Who also happened to go to the school I was standing in.

This has to be a case of destiny.

I was caught up in the rifle scandal really quick. By lunch time it was all over the school. My luck in this situation was so bad that the owner of the rifle, his uncle was a Johnston County sheriffs detective, and his area of patrol was the same area I had stolen the rifle.

The girl I was seeing at the time had went to school with all those kids her whole life and had told me that Roger Benson wanted me to call him. So in my stupidity, I called him from her house after school and agreed to meet with him. I'm fairly sure I incriminated myself on the phone with him that day.

What sucks is , during my panic, I sold the rifle to someone and tried to get out of it altogether that way. That wasn't a great idea, because as I left school the next day to "cruise" main street, right away I noticed police cruisers in the area.

As I was about halfway down main, I was blue lighted and held on the side of the street until , Mr. Roger Benson could arrive on scene. I had to stand outside , behind the car with the officer as every kid with a car at school rode by and looked at me with their face mashed into the glass like they were watching the most ****ed up trainwreck ever come to a halt.

Roger showed up and cuffed me . Then he said that he was gonna follow me to my house and we were gonna tell my parents. So, he uncuffed me, then followed me to my house where, strangely my mom happened to be , when she was usually at her office.

This was the first trouble I had been in since graduating from wilderness camp. She knew right away without him having to tell her I was in trouble. She cried. She hit my in my chest in a I can't believe you kind of way.

I was ashamed. I had put myself in that situation trying to be cool. I had told on myself in the unluckiest , craziest way possible. I had been cuffed and every kid at school seen it.

At the same time, I was a miserable person and misery loves company.

Admitting that all I ever wanted was for someone to like me is hard. My wheels stopped turning when I started remembering what I felt that day with the detective standing there talking to my mom.

I have no idea how to express the shame and fear I felt. The queasiness , the clamminess and the shakes. The desire to hide . To run away and never look back. To scream and smash . To cry. All of those feelings wrapped in a tight little ball pounding away in my chest.

My only outlet was my belief that I was going to jail. I wouldn't have to hide in the house for days and face looks of shame from my mom or drunken barrages of fists when I encountered Chuck. Instead , the situation got a little more crueler because I had been served on the detectives day off. At first, I didn't understand but when my mom responded that she would take me down herself, I wanted to find a hiding place. My heart aches right now remembering the fear and shame . From the moment the detective backed out of the driveway, up until I was booked a couple of nights later, it was all a blur.

I stayed in my room except for school until mom drove me down to the courthouse later that week. This was my first adult charge and due to my age I received a low bond for two felonies. She signed a property waiver saying they would default if I didn't show up for court and I was free to go. Just like that. Back into the fire.


Not only was it mind numbingly hard at home, the whole school hated me too. I had to sit beside that same kid I tried to sell the gun to and had to walk the same hallways as the owners brother and girlfriend.

That was a hard thing to do . Walking the school hallways and being scared to make eye contact for fear of a snide remark or rejection . I was never a liked person from that group to begin with due to the friends I had made from the summer football practices.

Now I had elevated the hate level to maximum and every class and every bell meant running into one of the cronies or someone that was somewhat my friend before this incident, but now turns away , scared to be my friend for fear of their own rejection.

I had a whole month until my court date to wallow in this . I constantly thought about what my life was gonna be like now that I was in trouble again. I hid in my room and tried my best not to add to the situation to make it worse.

The day of my court date finally arrived and the ride down with my mom was really tense. Here we were , headed back to court over something stupid I had done. I was scared of everything , especially the future.


We filed into the courtroom and took our seats .We heard the " all rise" and the roll call. When court started, my mom turned to me and said she needed to go talk to someone, to sit tight. I waited for a while, listening to each case called up and what the charges were. In the beginning of the session they brought people in orange jumpsuits in and sat them in the jury box . Since it was superior court, these were felony cases and I can remember the mood being very serious.

My mom came back and instead of sitting back down, she grabbed her jacket and said , " lets go". I followed her out and into the hallway where she turned to me and said that she had made a deal to get the charges dropped. I couldn't believe it. I was so elated that somehow this was gonna go away and I could start back over . I remember thinking to myself that YES!!! , you can make it through this. You can get back on track and start to see where your life is going and not be stuck and in trouble .

I asked her, What was the deal she made ? Her reply, was that if they dropped the charges , I would be moving out of state.

At first I didn't get the " Out of state" part. I asked why would I move out of state ?


"Because you are moving to your dads".

Wow bro, I started reading your thread this morning and have not stopped until now. A really great read. You had it rough buddy, and yet your heart and mind remains in the right place. I always refer to the saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". This only applies once you have accepted what has been done to you in which you are slowly doing. You expressing yourself is a big step in the right direction of letting go of all the ****ty experiences in your past. Good to see and keep it up bud, wish you all the best. I look forward to the rest of this thread.

I had tried his phone number hundreds of times. Every time I was home alone , I dialed and dialed. Every time it rang back disconnected. Each time I could build up the courage to ask my mom had she heard from my dad, her reply was always no, he doesn't want anything to do with you.

She didn't say it in a mean way. She said it in a motherly way , in a way she knew I would just let it die.

What she didn't understand , is that I never let it die. The last words he spoke to me was that he had me a puppy and a dirt bike and he would see me on my birthday.

When my first birthday came and I didn't see the yellow and white van in our cul-de-sac, My heart was just crushed. This gnawed my little mind to no end that my dads phone number didn't work and he didn't show up on my birthday after promising me the best gifts a little boy could ever receive.


They had agreed to meet in Greensboro, the halfway point between Rock Hill and Clayton. I was numb. I had so much indecision and turmoil inside that I wasn't sure what to do or how to act. I just rode, with all my clothes in trash bags sitting behind me.

He told her that he would be holding a sign for us, so we would know it was him. We circled back and forth between exits on I-40 looking for him. In my child mind, I was looking for his van. I was looking for a sign being held by a guy with a ponytail and a beard.

After many passes, she finally decided to pull to the side of the interstate and wait. Maybe that's what we should have done all along because it was a very short time before this big K-5 GMC pulls up behind my moms Cadillac.

I was scared. I had a lot of unrest in my mind about everything in my life for the past few years . I had felt thrown away and unloved and abandoned . I missed my dad. I cried every night for so long that he was gone and that he wasn't going to save me from this hell I was enduring. I gave up on him.

We sat in the car until he got out.

I didn't budge as my mom opened her door and jokingly asked about his sign. I didn't hear a response as his reply was washed away by the traffic whizzing by. I finally opened my door and slowly walked to the back of the car .

He didn't offer a hug . He didn't offer an explanation. He just looked at me for a few extended seconds and said, Get your ****, its a long drive home.

I got my bags and hugged my mom goodbye . I was still in so much shock that it was robotic. I went along with it. I didn't feel.

I got my stuff into his truck and got into my seat and shut the door. I just sat there. What could I say?

I watched her slowly start to drive off, gaining speed to pull back into traffic. I never even noticed we were moving too. I forgot to keep watching her taillights as we exited to go the other way.

His sign was a hot pink round snow sled that had our names written on one side in thin marker lettering. It was jammed against the dirty back window of the jimmy as an attempt to catch our eye. I was always afraid to ask him if he thought we could read the sign had we seen it. I was shocked honestly. I pictured a real sign , one that you could actually read . Instead , I got the 3 minute homework version , and I noticed it right away. I thought more about that sign on the way to his house, than I did on what he said , sitting right beside him for the first time in 8 years.

As we pulled off onto Dave Lyle blvd from I-77 , he pointed out a sign that was missing from the center median. He explained that he had taken it out one night, drunk , trying to get home. When he told me this I had an immediate flashback of the liquor store parking lot when I had to save my own life.

He didn't live far from the exit . He had found a trailer beside York tech on Baskin road and as we turned into his driveway, I noticed the top corner of his singlewide was badly damaged, and also horribly repaired. Without me having to ask, he explained hurricane hugo had come through and tore everything up.

His old yellow and white van was parked off to the side, that beacon of hope, I had so long wanted to see.

There was an lawnmower parked right up against it with a plastic covered plywood roof leaning against the van to keep the weather off of it. I asked him what was wrong with it , and he replied, it still runs, it just needs a little work.

When we got inside with my stuff, he led me down the hallway to my bedroom . He opened the door and said he was sorry for the mess, that I would have to clean it up before I could put my stuff away .

I noticed tinfoil lined the walls. There was potting soil built up in the corners of the room and the window was boarded over. He said that he grew some pot a couple of times but stopped because he didn't want to get caught. He even told me the story of getting arrested in the middle of the night from a dead sleep in a case of mistaken identity and the officer followed him to his bedroom so he could get dressed and had to pass the room full of weed and not saying a word about it.

Since it was dark when we first came in , I didn't see how dirty his living room and kitchen were. He had a 70 pound Rottweiler in the backyard that came in at night and had shed its entire life without it ever being vacuumed up. There definitely wasn't a woman around, although he did try to decorate. There were old school David Mann prints on the walls and dozens of unopened collectible beers from Sturgis. There were some biker mags and porno's on the coffee table.

I sat on his couch taking it all in when I finally asked him. I asked, " How long do I have to stay here? "


" for the duration"

I didn't know what the word , Duration meant.

After hearing that word , my little mind spun and spun , flipping back and forth , to act like I knew the meaning or give in and ask what it meant and look foolish and stupid. It was all still very much a shock to me and honestly I was upset that after not seeing him for eight years he was living in a dump he rented across the street from the community college. I was terribly embarrassed . I was ashamed.

I had wanted for so long to see that van pull up in Mesa court, instead I had come to IT . I was hurt that , THIS was what was so important to desert me in NC to being punched in the face by some wimpy POS.

I ached inside and I hated him so much I would not shed a tear or even delve into it with him. I concealed every ounce of contempt . The only hiccup I had was calling him " daddy" , as I did when I was 8 years old. I didn't know what to say , so I just didn't say anything. I responded if spoken to but If I had to tried to start a conversation with him I would say " hey" or "look" .

My first real memory during that first week was meeting one of his longtime friends that I hung around as a small child when we lived on Lizzie street across town. His name was Slim , which was a biker nickname and was the exact opposite of his physique . He was over six feet tall and five hundred pounds with bright red hair. When he rode his "motor-sikel" , the bike looked like it was a toy rather than a full sized Harley.

Him and my dad had known each other a very long time and they were very close. Slims house was the first place we went on my first Friday in Rock Hill. Leading up to deciding to go to his house for dinner, we had talked some about playing cards that week. I asked him if he still played from when He was with us and he said that yes, he played a lot at Slims , whenever there was a " get-together", as He threw big parties all the time. In fact it was Slims wife Shirley who organized all the events on their property. They lived in Fort Lawn which was about a thirty minute drive into rural SC. They had a huge place , a nice brick ranch with a great big padded driveway and a bonfire area. Slim worked for a company in town that made cigarette filters. He had been there a long time and at the time was getting ready to go to China for 6 months for his job.

During the week as Tony told me all this about Slim, I kept thinking about the poker game. That Friday , the day I had been anticipating all week was here. At some point I had found a deck of cards and had been trying to teach myself to bridge the deck when I shuffled. I could never do it up until that afternoon. My dad had gotten home from his sheet metal job and was taking a nap before we drove down to the party.

I sat on his dirty couch watching the light fade through the windows. Over and over I kept trying to make the deck bridge . I was willing him to hurry up and wake up but was keeping my hands occupied from boredom and anticipation when for some reason I don't know why, I brought the deck in close to my chest and upside down as I went through the bridge attempt at a completely weird angle and nailed it perfectly. I did it the exact same way again and , another flawless execution. In my mind it was like the Batman scene where Bale is trying to scale the wall to escape. I tried so many times and somehow I got there. I thought for a long time I was destined to not be able to shuffle a deck of cards like I had seen grownups do.

I must have shuffled 200 times sitting there waiting for him to wake up. I had sat in the dark the whole time, me and that deck of 52 , riffle, bridge, box. No lights. Just me and something that felt comfortable and soothing. I felt such a sense of accomplishment.

There were about 12 people at Slims when we got there. Shirley, who I had never met since she married Slim since my dad had been out of my life came outside to greet us as we pulled up. She hugged me immediately and made me feel wanted and welcomed right away. I felt strange walking in to a group of his friends like that. Even though I knew Slim, I was still a "troubled" kid and the reason I was there with him is because he had to take me. I felt guilty for that and uneasy.

Slim was a leader and one of the reasons I liked and respected him so much is that he knew the situation but never made it anything between us. It was always fun and games. He made me feel at ease after coming inside and after us eating and them drinking , talk of a poker game started . One thing I learned about Slim, once he sits down at his seat for the game , the game is on. Its his house and he's not getting up until there are some cards played.

As the grownups gathered the chairs in the house around the dining room table , my dad handed me a handful of change to play with. That felt pretty good I have to admit, him helping me get into the game as I had struggled within trying to figure out if he was gonna let me play without asking him.

I was in the corner seat, the five hole if you wanna call it that. At that point in my poker life, tunk , 5 card draw and 7 stud with wild variables were the only games I knew. Those were the games we played and as the hands were drunkedly dealt out, one by one of the characters busted and went home. I had went bust too but Tony gave me some more change out of his stack to keep playing.

One of the people there was an ex cruise ship dealer named Dave I believe and Slim mentioned he knew some very good card tricks and close to the end of the night, I finally talked him into doing some. He really knew what he was doing, as he dealt out a multi way hand and everyone had enough to go broke to me. Then he did several more tricks I haven't seen to this day that amazed me and from that instant I wanted to hang out with him more at any opportunity. My dad even mentioned that he mowed his lawn and that I would be helping and that was something I instantly looked forward to.

I didn't beat the game , but I went home that night happy and more optimistic about Rock Hill.

Enjoyed the update. Thanks for sharing OP!

Do you want to go to school or get a job?

It was Sunday , the morning after the most magical night of my life and I was sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal when Tony asked me that. I had a very hard time unraveling myself from the memories of Daves mechanics and the fact that I had no clue how he became that good. I wanted to ask him a million questions and never do anything again but play cards.

Instead, I got the morning acknowledgement I will never forget. I wasn't so much the question, It was the tone, the inflection of , "I'm already sick of you after a few days" kind of voice that stunned me . This was my father , someone who was supposed to love me. Someone who was supposed to teach me and guide me. The second that language cleared my ear canal and processed , I had already decided I was leaving.

I responded, "School".


He drove me to Rock Hill High Monday morning to enroll. The whole way there I kept thinking about the looks on the office workers faces that I would see when he and I walked in. I was dressed like a normal person or kid going to school. He looked like he had a point to make to someone.

His idea of dressing up was a biker style boot, jeans , t-shirt and jean button up over that. He would unbutton the top two buttons so the black tshirt was visible underneath , and roll the cuffs a quarter of the way up to expose his tattoo sleeves. That was all topped off with big silver and turquoise rings on his two outer fingers of both hands, like he's gonna knock someone out with them.

The woman that came and met us in the Lobby sure didn't give me any tells by looking at her that she was shocked by his appearance . He signed a couple of forms and I chose my classes , which I didn't even check to see what I was signing up for as by age I was supposed to be in the 11th grade, but I had never been to school since the 7th grade , and the 5 or so months I went to school in Clayton , after I got out of wilderness camp, I had straight f's.

It was never a case of being dumb, just emotionally ******ed to the point of being unschoolable. So now, choosing classes at a school 10 times bigger than the school you just left and the amount of emotional duress clouding even your smallest thoughts, I just skimmed the page , making the x's beside the classes I thought I could easily pass or have the hardest time passing. I knew it didn't really matter.

I got the reaction I wanted from the woman's daughter. She happened to go to the school and was a senior , and an office runner so she was called in to take me on a tour of the school. As she walked in I watched her scan the small room for me and as she did it, she looked at my dad first , I seen her eyes flutter just a tiny little flip! She was shocked !

I knew it, I wasn't crazy. This guy is weird and a loser and this hot ass daughter of the guidance counselor confirmed my suspicions.


I started the next day , riding the bus that stopped right outside Tonys trailer. I got on at the same time all the kids from the apartments across the street and the trailer park beside it. It was a lot different than the bus I remembered from my time in 7th grade before wilderness camp.

It was newer and faster. A lot cleaner . The driver even wore a uniform, not some stale 2nd job fast food uniform like my childhood bus driver.

I just rode in silence , too embarrassed that I had lived in the ****hole everyone was staring out the window at. I knew they were wondering how in the **** anyone lived in it.


I called my Mom as soon as I got back from school. I begged her, crying, please come get me.

tarheelbluez when were you a Sequoia? I was in the group from 1994-95 with Chief Mike and Chief Andy. I went back there today for the first time in 20 years becuase I was in the area. What a roller coaster of emotions it was. They have dorms now, video games, computers, etc. It's crazy. I got to speak to a few of the kids and they've asked me to come back to speak to the entire camp. Crazy memories have been flooding back in all day since I left there this morning. Hope all is well on your end!

Derek

March 26 1992 is the day I went to E-Ku-Sumee . The same day Mike Tyson went to prison in Indiana. Heard it on the radio on the way there.

Updates please! I read this entire thread today. I've never read an entire thread longer than about 20 posts.

Your story is intriguing and inspiring. I highly recommend writing a book. I grew up very upper middle class in a nice neighbourhood with loving parents etc... I didn't realize stories like yours existed and it has really opened my eyes to another world. I got in my fair share of trouble as a youngster (I'm still only 20) and had no excuses. I thought everyone who found themselves in subpar situations did it to themselves as I often did. I can feel my compassion for people expanding as I read. Thank you so much for sharing.

Sent from my XT1254 using Tapatalk

Tony was up and gone long before I was up for school. He was working 10 hour days hanging sheet-metal with a biker buddy of his named " Footsy".

My dad had always been a carpet layer as long as I could remember and had some issues with his knees so mixing it up across trades was his thing I learned . What's funny is that every male family member I know of my dads are carpet layers. His brother Jerry and His son Jerry Jr. His cousins Eddie and his son Eddie Jr. His other cousin Ricky and son Ricky Jr.
Their uncle Jimmy owned a carpet store but infighting had them all working at different subcontractors throughout Charlotte and Rock Hill. Looking back now, those guys had a monopoly in a booming metro area and pissed it away being ignorant and full of pride.
None of them had any vision for the end game.

I met Footsy once and although he lived in a cleaner doublewide, all I could see was some dude my dad underachieved with. They would go work 10 hour days while I tried to figure out how in the hell to get away from my situation.
I made it to school maybe 7 whole days after I started but had little motivation after feeling so alone and unstable inside myself.

Instead of trying to make friends in my new school and town, I kept calling " friends" back in NC, call after call , hoping to talk to someone that sounds like they can't wait for me to come back. I never got that tone from anyone but I did find out that my friend Jeff had moved back to the Asheville area of NC with his grandparents because of family problems.
Of course, I called Jeff, because I'm calling everyone and he tells me he's just as miserable as me and wants to just run away. For some reason , that idea was just so glorious and I immediately thought of the times sitting here alone and looking in the van outside and seeing the keyslot in the ignition welded shut meaning you could just turn it to start it up.
I had started it and it ran so I knew it would drive. I told him I had my dads van and I would come pick him up 200 or so miles the next day. The plan was to leave at morning rush hour, steal a full tank of gas and hit I-77 en route to Asheville.


I remember that night before the trip , being so happy inside that I was leaving and that one of my friends was gonna be on this adventure with me. I felt like I was gonna be rid of the terrible situation I was flung into by fate.

I heard Tony leave and I sprang up before the sun came up. I packed all of my stuff , got every spare dollar I could find and I hit the road. I took a back road to the Exxon on Cherry road and I-77 and filled it up with premium, $58.00 worth. I hopped into the drivers seat and sped up the exit, not even a glance from the attendant as I pulled away.

I cannot describe my feelings as I drove up the interstate. It was joy and relief. It was fear and worry.
I know I had gotten comfortable as I was approaching the last exit before the NC border, The Fort Mill baseball exit.

Then it happened. The oil light started flashing. The temperature gauge was buried under the H. I lost complete power and cruised to the inside disabled lane along the center median. My heart was pounding and I had a panic attack. I tried turning the key and the motor wouldn't turn over, just a clicking starter.

I sat in disbelief that I was broken down 15 miles into my getaway. I had nowhere to go. I say there maybe 10 minutes trying to come up with a plan when an older box truck pulled over across from me in the southbound lane . It was a friend of my dads who recognized the yellow and white dodge van knew it was his.

He looked a little skeptical after I told him I was taking it to a shop for my dad. I guess me getting my trashbags of clothes out of the back before he gave me a ride home might have given me away.

I sat at that trailer all day wondering what he was gonna do about me stealing the van. There was no doubt as to my intentions. My actual plan was to feign ignorance and act like I was at school. This was before cellphones and emails so my dad wouldn't know what had happened until he got home.

That would be the way to think about it except, that " friend" of my dads who drove me home? He went straight to my dads brothers house and informed his wife that he had given me a ride home and Tony needs to know about his van. Well , she paged my uncle, who called her , who then called Footsy's house and left a message with his wife that I had stolen his van and blown it up on I-77.

It was about dusk when Tony pulled into the yard with van in tow behind his Blazer. I sat on the couch afraid to move. He finally came in took all of his work stuff and put it on the kitchen table. Then he came over and stood in front of me with his finger like 1/4 inch from my nose and screaming in my face. He tried to slap me but i sensed it coming and I bobbed my head back and just caught a slight graze.

I immediately ducked under him and ran down the hallway and out the back door, cutting through the next door neighbors yard before crossing the street into the community college property. I can still hear him yelling , ' you better run" ....

Night classes were starting as I walked around campus. I had just had a huge adrenaline rush and now as it got dark, I felt exhausted. I knew that my best shot at sleeping somewhere inside and undisturbed would probably be the auditorium so I went to that building and tried the door. It was open and there was no one in the lobby so I opened the aisle door to the theater and walked down to the front of the stage and layed down on the floor to sleep the night away in peace after such a horrible day.

Security said they heard me , rather than seen me. I awoke to flashlights in my face and questions as to how I got in and why am I asleep on the floor. I told them the truth , I ran from my dad and felt this was a safe place to hide until tomorrow. I asked them to let me go, and that I was sorry. That was not to be as their procedure is to call the police and that is exactly what they did.

Two officers showed up and took me downtown. My story was credible as I didn't break in. Nothing was damaged, nothing was missing .The school didn't press charges and I was told that I could go home, but a parent had to pick me up.

After I had ran away from my dad that day, he went out to a bar and picked up one of his old flames and brought her home......when the police called to come pick me up, he sent her. I had no idea who she was except she was driving my dads truck and that all the nervousness about the ride home subsided.

When I got in the truck, She said, " I'm Lynn, Your dads girlfriend. It's nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you. "

Lynn was from Indian Trail NC and had met my dad at a biker bar he was running a couple of years earlier called the "Cantina" .

She had two kids from a previous marriage and didn't have custody. My dad and her had split up several times before I moved in with him and this was the first time I had ever heard he name.
Tony got over the van fairly quick as it had problems before that happened but was still pissed I had stolen it to leave forever. He told me the reason he brought Lynn back was because he needed a woman around to help with me.

I didn't have to wait long to get to know Lynn. The paper thin walls allowed for all sounds to echo throughout the trailer. Her and my dad would get drunk and then scurry down the hallway to their bedroom having the loudest sex you can imagine from a trashy biker whore.

I learned quick not to tell her anything as she would tell my dad anything whether it was true or not. She thrived on drama and when she called my mom one day to talk about me, my mom seen through it and told me to pack my stuff, I didn't have to stay there anymore.

She picked me up the next day at the high school I had only went to for a week. I was going back home for a fresh start.

I grew up in an area where more than one boy could have written your story, although not nearly so well. Please continue.

Sick stories OP but MOAR!!! Don't make us wait years for updates!

It's very hard to get through this section. Why even leave speculation as to why it has taken so long?

I have relived my life trying to remember details for this story ,that just wouldn't be MY story without them. Just like the first time I ever gambled.

I believe I was five years old. Me and my dad , standing under a one hundred year old oak tree in front of grandpa Rays house.Waiting for grandpa to arrive with my go-kart in the back of his truck. My dad taught me to flip quarters, heads or tails. If you call it wrong you lose your quarter.
I'm sure I had no money of my own to lose but remembering this has helped me try and give a better light to my dad in this story. Don't get me wrong, he's still blocked for life but at least now I can give him full credit for giving me the gamble.

I set goals after every WSOP and My number one goal for this year is to focus on writing.

Five years ago I left Raleigh , uncertain about my life in Las Vegas. Today, I sit here on the cusp of all my dreams and I know this is the final step before my door opens.

We are going on a ****ed up ride guys.

My mom told me a story one time about why she wanted to get into real estate. She said that there was a pig-picking at grandpa Rays and a cousin of hers from Baltimore came down driving a Cadillac and looked all " sharp" , as were her exact words.
After she met Chuck, and she started having great success, she got the idea that she wanted to move her mom Frances down to NC , from Hampton Roads VA, where she lived.
As I was in wilderness camp, she talked her mom into moving down to be closer to us all and even bought a lot in our neighborhood , right down the street from our house and let my grandma decide between two house plans they had chosen to build on the lot.
When the house was ready , my mom hired a guy and rented a U-haul and we drove up to Hampton and moved grandma down to NC.

I really didn't know much of grandma Frances except she lived in Va and I hadn't seen her much up until we moved her down.

Things never go as planned most of the time when you are a kid. I totally expected that when my mom picked me up in Rock Hill that we were going to Mesa court, where I had lived whenever I wasn't sent off. She tells me on the way home that I will be staying with Grandma Frances, lives just down the street from us. I knew things weren't going to work out right then, but what was I to do?

Frances (Pollard) Rouse grew up in Clayton NC . Right on Main Street where City Florist of Clayton sits. Long before it was a florist, it was mill housing as it sits across from the old Clayton Mill. Her parents, worked there as did everyone that lived in the mill houses.After she met my Grandpa Ray they moved to Florida for a bit before settling down the street from Clayton, in Wilson's Mill's NC.

Grandma divorced Ray and moved closer to her sister Rudine in Hampton.There she met a Navy man Phillip Rouse that she married and was with until he died. She never worked a day in her life. She had no life experience outside of her apartment and shopping on the base.


Although she was my Grandma, we weren't close. My gift at reading people alerted me to the fact that she was very uncomfortable around me. Like she had heard a bunch of stories and kept holding her breath if I opened the front door or had a phone call. I did my best to respect her and we eventually got used to each other.
That didn't stop her from disliking where she was living though. Even though it was a brand new house, she complained it was too far from the store. She didn't have a car so my mom was driving her to the PX or the grocery store and then any other place she needed. Instead of toughing it out, she talked my mom into buying her a house in town, close to the old Clayton Red and White grocery store.

Kildee Street

Antisemitic conspiracy theories? Not on this site.

Station Casinos Slot Tournament Scam

After black Friday I moved out to Vegas to figure out life. I had just started to shake off some terrible life tilt and was getting some good staking deals on Part time poker when in an instant, it was all gone. The only thing I could think of to do was to sell everything and move.So that's what I did.

I had been out to Vegas a year prior but didn't know anyone living out there. I found a chick needing a roommate on some site and I packed up my 2007 Dodge Stratus with my chihuahua peewee , my clothes and my PC and $4500. I left Raleigh on June 6th and rolled into Las Vegas at dawn on June 9th.

My new roommate didnt get off work till 5pm so I had all day to kill. I drove around town trying to get the feel of my new home. I took Peewee to the dog park behind the East Side Cannery and drove around downtown until I found Pawnstars.
I was super tired midday so I rented a room in a really old motel downtown on Las Vegas Boulevard , right beside the Post Office. I tried to nap with my dog who was super hyped at any noise- I kept envisioning how many people had slept in the room so I made Peewee a blanket bundle and set out to walk downtown.

I finally got up with my new roommate and settled in. I won several of the grand tournaments at the Golden Nugget, I crushed the Orleans Friday night and several of their dailies, I scooped the Aria daily and nightly. I was crushing off of a $4500 roll and then when the series was over, and everyone left town, I was still sitting with some residual life tilt from another period in my life. I needed to become a better people person and work through some issues, so I decided to work.

I had never really had a job and I was 34 years old. I was lacking some things in my life that I knew to be a better person , I had to work on. So I brainstormed and decided that the best job that would make me great tips, allow a lot of personal freedom and set my own schedule was to deliver food.

I set out to work two jobs, not just one. I had never held a job more than 90 days my whole life and I wanted to not only work one, but to work two and become a new person by hard work and immersing myself into a new situation 2200 miles away from bad memories.

It was the best thing I have ever done! I got my first job at Jasons Deli , downtown , right there in the Southern Nevada water district building next to the IRS. They did a huge amount of catering to Zappos, The mayors office , The Smith Center, World Market - basically the whole east side to Flamingo and as far North as the Speedway ! Schools, hospitals- Ricks Restoration, Pawn Stars, Zuffa !!

My 2nd job in the evenings was the east side Pizza Hut off of Sahara and Nellis. I chose that store particularly because it's delivery area is the edge of the mountain and a lot of local traffic instead of that crazy downtown traffic I was driving in during the day. I tried to set myself up to have success and I had so much of it.

Anyway, it's at this Pizza Hut that I got invited to take part in a scam to steal money from the slot machine tournament at Sunset Station in Henderson. I applied and was immediately hired to be a driver and since I wanted to work nights, I was a good fit. The girl who hired me was from Ohio and she was around my age and 8 months Pregnant. She was dating a guy who worked at Sunset Station as a manager in one of the restaurants and after she came back from having their baby , he got her a position at Sunset, out of pizza hut. I didnt think anything else about her, I was there to work and do my thing , but some of the people that were there before me were close with her and would always talk about her and that they see her regularly. the usual work chit chat.

Probably 4 months go by and out of the blue her best friend at the pizza hut, a guy named earl from chicago , starts calling my phone one day needing to talk to me really bad, so I stop by his apartment on my way to work .

He begins to tell me that " donna" has been working at Sunset and has been in charge of the slot tournament and that if I wanted to , she could rig it to make sure that my card # was the winner of the slot tourney- the only catch was that I split the $2000 prize with her.

I didnt tell anyone I worked with about poker. None of those people had any clue other than it was played in a casino. There was nothing i could gain from these people by talking about poker. But poker was the first thing I thought about. The embarrassment of moving to vegas to change your life , only to be caught up stealing 1000 from Sunset Station, I was ****ing horrified.

I held it in though. I was just gonna politely decline and go to work and thats what I did , but before I did, he told me all about it. However since she left Pizza Hut she was there and she got that job and immediately started rigging it- here's how it went-

They have the slot tourney promotions- get a certain amount of points on a certain day and you qualify for the slot tourney. The slot tourneys are on special machines cordoned off just for the tourney- You show your card number, it gets validated for points. They sit you at a machine and give you the play and whatever points you total goes on a list and then a percentage of the list gets paid out- at 7pm the slot tourney winners list is posted by the cage- you go up and find your number and see if you placed in the money- it's all anonymous.

He said that he did it for several weeks in a row and that he was scared to do it again. They had already used her mother in law, and some other person but now they needed someone new..... me


LOLLLL you know what kept running through my head? How ****ing insane it is to stroll up to that pay window pretending you won the slot tourney 3 times in a row when there are thousands that play it. I am dead ass serious. I was thinking of Russ Hamilton type undeniable cheating and this guys asking me to steal after they had already stolen so much.

She moved back to Ohio and I never heard anything else about it except that earls car got repossesed for non payment. I guess he didn't bink anymore slot tourneys.

This lesson taught me that cheating is so easy that people with no gaming experience were cheating hard core and didn't get caught.

PRISON STORIES FROM HELL


I had been at Ridgeland Correctional in Ridgeland SC only a short time before I had to become a true Gladiator-
You may ask how a young white kid in a predominately black prison would survive almost unscathed , considering the tales people hear about dropping soap or weakness being preyed upon which is all true , but the way you carry yourself determines how much respect you get.

If you don't respect yourself, You will not get any in prison where only the most cunning and strong get to the top.You will not be the leader of anyone taking dicks up the ass.

Just like in the world, prison has a heirarchy system of power- Length of incarceration, hometown, gang affiliation and other connections. If you have a dedicated network outside the walls to support an enterprise inside the walls , that brings power - That person would control the drugs, where if you were rolling weed in your car and some fell in your lap and your brushed it off on the ground- that same amount you threw out is worth $5-$10 in prison - If you are not a heavy smoker and hit just a tiny bit of weed , you get high as ****. They get an ounce of weed in and make $1000 or more selling " sacks" - those crumbs folded in a piece of paper and then taped together like an ammo belt and then worn in their pants when they come out into the general population/yard excercise area and sell to the customers. they tear off a sack and keep moving-
This way they do not lose precious cargo in a small piece of paper when it's taped together in a chain and can be torn off to distribute in one , 2, or 5 sacks at a time-
all paid in either cash smuggled by the other inmates or by commissary items-
Soap, coffee, canned roast beef, cigarettes. whatever equals the total of the price of the weed.

Every week, new inmates arrive at the prisons across America. They get bused from the county jails to a central location and then processed by the state and then finally sent to the states choice of prison depending on custody level- Ridgeland was medium/close - A lot of it depends on the region of the state you were convicted in.

As new inmates arrive, the hustlers and schemers and watching who gets off that bus. ANY, young apprehensive , scared looking white kid or older rich looking white man is immediately set upon to become best friends.

Sometimes a person will get to prison and meet new friends and want to make themsleves seem more " harder" than what they actually are so they concoct grand schemes of how rich they wer on the street and the connections they had. Some people were rich and connected but one thing you will find out in life, stay around someone long enough and they will show you who they really are.

One instance of the hustlers befriending a guy turned out to be a serious mind**** for me.

There are ******s in prison. Quite a few and some are out in the open. Others hide it. Some of the ones that dont hide it are the ones that can't. they are in prison with aids and have to get medication 2x a day and the pill line opens at certain times and when people see a guy going day after day and getting pills and also a know cock sucker plus he's losing weight- there are no secrets in prison.

The economy in prison is very small. a lot of people do not get money from the outside . some do- the state pays inmates per month but its like max $15
So many people hustle. they smuggle food from the cafeteria- they perform hits for money. Hand wash peoples clothes , clean their rooms- get $ in your account so the rich guy can spend double this week and he gives you $10

The hustlers befriend the new guys and as soon as they find out if there is mark here they either drop them or they leach onto them and use every drop they can until it's over-

Here comes this new white kid, I see the usual leaches grab him and for the next month they were friends and I just could not understand why considering he didnt go to the commissary and buy big groceries-

It takes about a month for your visitation to be approved- When this kid came off visit , they were waiting at the entrance ot the dorm .

as soon as he came inside , he was whisked right into the nearest room and made to strip - the gay punk with aids was made to stick his finger up this guys ass to make sure he didnt smuggle the weed he said that he was going to be bringing in . the guy lied to make himself seem cool and ended up getting an aids infested finger up his ass to make sure .


then he got his ass beat for lying.


the end