GRAND THEFT AUTO (me!) sandra, ttgp
I forgot to note/write-down the original date of this post. -sickens me that original dates are lost, depending on what computer you use when you publish something that was placed back in drafts. -but obviously this story is re-posted as a result of writing my "21 reasons I love to blog" post. -can't be linked without being published. -/and it's been a long time since I've done what I describe as "blog rounds" -visiting a variety of great blogger friends; reading/responding... time/life made it so that I couldn't really do it anymore... narrowed it down to just leonardstegmann.blogspot.com; 5 days a week... 8 years... and going.... but skinny mentioned below, and her sister; awesome bloggers!
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under the influence of skinny's post & comments:
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under the influence of skinny's post & comments:
http://myrant-skinnylittleblonde.blogspot.com/ sentencing/june 23rd
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red; stop. green; go.
that was the extent of my knowledge when i put $1.98 in the tank of my boyfriend's car at rotten robbies gas station across from the highschool.
i was a freshmen. -on the days i attended.
and terrible, typical, me: his car was blue. that's all i remember. it was the envy of many boys on campus, and my boyfriend was very proud of whatever make and model it was, but to me, it was just my boyfriend's blue car.
"thanks for letting me borrow your..." -he cut me off. gave me that look.
"oh! almost forgot! i mean, thank you for letting me steal your car."
and then he smiled with approval. gave me his keys and a kiss.
because, that's how we rehearsed it:
"if.. IF, IF, IF you get pulled over for any reason," he told me, "just tell the police officer that you stole the keys out of my locker"
the logic here, according to my genius boyfriend and my very best friend, sue-sue, -both older than me and with much more experience
IF i got pulled over, and IF i told them my boyfriend gave me the keys... he would go to jail for contributing to a minor, or something like that...
but IF i got pulled over, and IF i said i stole the keys from my boyfriends locker...
well, then.. that's only joy-riding. - i might get off with just a warning and my boyfriend sees no trouble at all.
red; stop. green; go.
that was the extent of my knowledge.
so when the light turned green: i went.
next thing ya know, i'm waking to the sound of some guy's finger's snaping
"are you awake? can you hear me? how many fingers am i holding up?"
and thank you to this very day, and this very experience,
i'm certain, that should i live to be 100 years old, suffering from cancer, dementia and alzheimer's combined
i will, no matter what, still rise from my hospital bed, open my eyes, pull out the tubes and put in my teeth to mouth the words "yield right of way" when any guests, visitors or hospital staff ask me about making lefts on green.
now, seems to me, once the snappy finger ambulance guy assessed that i was alive and well, and that the tennis ball size lump on my forehead was not life threatening
he escourted me to the back of a police car and said goodbye.
and i remember two policemen in that car. one driving. one in the passenger seat. both of them looking back and forth at each other and smiling.
"how old are you?" the driver asked.
and it took me a minute to figure it out. whether i should tell the truth or not.
"14." i answered.
"and whose car was that?"
and that's when everything came back to me in an instant. the whole script. just like we'd rehearsed.
"that's my boyfriend's car. he's a junior. i stole the keys from his locker. he doesn't know i know the combination to his locker. but i do. he would never, never, give me the keys to his car. no sir. or the combination to his locker. i figured out the number code and stole his keys. i wanted to take his car for a joy-ride..."
and i do remember quite vividly -even now- how those cops looked back and forth at each other and smiled serious smiles.
then, the passenger policeman picked up his radio and called the station
"this is.. (blah, blah, officer number, blah, blah, blah) , we've got a (insert special code number here) in progress. we're bringing in a sandra harrison for booking
(for booking!?!? oh shit!? -NO SCRIPT!- -NOT REHEARSED!)
and then the police officer in the driver's seat glanced back at me and asked -do you know what we're booking you for?"
"joy-riding?" i choked out in a hopeful whisper while i massaged the tumor growing on my head
"nope." he said, "grand theft auto."
"grand theft auto?!?!" i screamed in a panic.
"do you want to change your story?" the passenger police officer asked me,
"or do you want to stick to that story about how you figured out the pad lock combination and stole the key's from your boyfriend's locker?"
what a fix!
-meanwhile- sue-sue, my best friend, partner in crime, and how-to-get-out-of-jail-free consultant, is
... to the rescue!
i don't remember the details, except, she was driving in her car (legally, i might add) on the same street i was joy-riding on...
had to pull over to the right when a couple police cars passed her by, and then pull over again for the ambulance
and bein' the older and experienced best friend she was, she thought the worst right away. drove further down the road and had it all confirmed.
she looked from a distance to see if i was okay. -she'd a' been arrested had she gone any closer, with those unpaid tickets and fines she accumulated
and once she saw that i was okay ... saw me -me!- in the back of a paddy wagon
she raced to the mall, parked, then ran to the store where my boyfriend worked.
in her retelling of the story, she hit him over the head with her purse because he asked about his car before asking about me
and meanwhile again
i'm bein' held in the local slammer for grand. theft. auto.
now, i won't have this exactly correct, verbatim, or anything,
but next thing i do remember quite clearly, is that i was allowed to make that one call.
and as i sat there with this golden opportunity before me, i recalled my mother's words
my mother's mantra really
"if you ever end up in jail, don't call me!"
this was my mom's version of tough love. she had watched her brothers and all their closest friends end up in jail. call mom. post bail. get out. go back. repeat. repeat. repeat.
she was gonna nip juvenile delinquency in the don't-bother-me- belt-spanked-bud.
and so i didn't jump at the chance to make a call.
and it seems to me, some new police officer entered in on the scene. started threatening me with real jail time. "not just a holding room at the station," he would tell me. "a jail cell!"
and i remember, quite vividly, thinking to myself
"please!
"please! please! please! -send me to jail. send me to prison!"
'cuz a jail cell, even one surrounded with hardened criminals, would be less punishment than what awaited if i called home.
home.
where an abusive, severely alcoholic step dad would be more than happy to teach me a lesson!
and now, i have no memory of making that one call.
no memory of how i ended up back at home.
no memory of what happened, ultimately, to my boyfriend's blue car; except that it was totaled.
vague memory of having to... pay a fine? take a test? do community service? appear in court? - before i could get my license two years later at age sweet 16.
but a very vivid memory of my step-dad yelling that because of my stupid selfishness, we'd all end up broke and homeless.
the car that should have had the right of way on that green light was not a car at all, but an animal control truck.
a government owned vehicle.
"YOU WERE IN THE WRONG! DRIVING WITHOUT A LICENSE! YOU STUPID IDIOT! YOU HIT AN ANIMAL CONTROL TRUCK -DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!? THEY'RE GOING TO SUE US! THEY WILL SUE US! SOMEONE IS GOING TO COME HERE AND TAKE THIS HOUSE AWAY. YOUR MOM WILL BE WITHOUT A HOUSE! THEY'LL TAKE US FOR EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT AND MORE! WE'LL BE LIVING IN THE STREET -AND DO YOU KNOW WHY!?! BECAUSE OF YOU! WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DRIVE A CAR? YOU IDIOT! IDIOT! SELFISH BITCH! I OUGHTA BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU. GO AHEAD! SLEEP ON THAT BED.. THEY'LL TAKE THAT TOO! EVERYTHING YOUR MOM AND I HAVE EVER WORKED FOR WILL BE GONE BECAUSE OF YOU! I OUGHTA BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU! YOU'LL WISH YOU'D DIE IN THAT ACCIDENT"
and he was right. i wished i had died.
-thought about how peaceful that might be; being dead.
thought about how i didn't deserve, really, to be here on earth. -thought about what a selfish, stupid, person i was. what a huge disappointment. what a cost. what a burden.
thought about my mom, brother, sister living in a cardboard box because of me.
thought about my boyfriend having to walk to school or ride his bike, or hitchhike and get killed because of me.
decided maybe,
everyone would be better off without someone like me ruining their hard earned lives.
my mom would later come in my room and forgive me. comfort me. express love and concern over anger and hatred. probably her, and her alone, or her plus God, saved me from a clearly planned out, visualized and accessible overdose.
so in the end,
the car was totalled;
the charges were dropped.
i stayed alive.
me and my boyfriend with the blue car broke up.
my mom and alcoholic step-dad divorced.
no animals, nor the driver in the truck were injured.
fines were paid
lessons were learned
always,
to be continued
posted by SHE @ 8:44 AM
8 Comments:
Hello. I don't even know how I got here. But, geeez you have a great memory. Better than mine. I can still remember that day (I thought pretty vividly) clearly. I was so scared. I don't remember agreeing with Ron to say that you stole the keys. The way I remember (I admit, pretty foggy) is that someone mentioned to me that Sandy went to pick up someone at BART. I said who? How can she do that? She doesn't even have a car. LAUGH. LAUGH. As I looked around, asking where you were. The laughs were short lived. I suddenly realized that as crazy as it seemed, that you DID go. It was true. Oh, my God! I jumped in my car while I was screaming at someone, "which BART station"? "Tennyson" someone said. Then I raced (with which I needed no encouragement)to find my friend before she hurt herself. Oh, God, maybe I'm too late. Then, as I am driving up Tennyson.....moments away from turning at the last light....I see an Animal Control truck and Ron's car in the intersection. My heart sank! I had never been so scared in my life. Was she gone? Did the worse thing possible happen? Ron, you stupid son of a bitch!! Yes, I really thought that! He was a nice guy and all, but lucky that's all I thought of him at that moment. As far as I was concerned, it was his fault. He gave you the keys. Yes, you were perfectly capable of finding your own messes....but, this was his fault. And, he was gonna be sorry when I found him! And, I would find him. All of that went through my mind like a flash. Then, I went around the wreck, and I saw a police car. I saw your head in the back seat. I couldn't believe it. Now, I had to switch gears. Now, you weren't hurt, but, oh, shit you were gonna be in hell of trouble! That, (*&*^^(*^ Ron. No, it didn't really help him that you were not hurt, he was still not going to be happy to see me. Honestly, I don't remember much after that. I am sure that you have the brunt of the memories after that. That was a time. Was it not? We were just babies. We didn't think so...but, we were. Just trying to figure it all out. Trying to make our way in the world. We didn't mean any harm. We were all really nice kids. I'm glad to see that you are still writing. Beautifully, I might add. That was always your niche. Take Care! Sue Sue
swimming back to then....
the things we did, the rides, the dares, the cars, the boys.....
"Homeless!".....the ultimate threat, and one I've repeated myself in the last few years I must say! I'm sorry to be smiling, but you tell it so beautifully, and I could have been right there beside you, going along with the "perfect" plan....
Joy riding!
SUE-SUE!!!!!!
this is the biggest, best, surprise of the year!
what a treat to hear from you!
my partner in all mostly misdemeanor crimes across the bay area and beyond
stories flood my memories...
you need to start a blog too. we'll take turns
how much do you remember about that day we all cut school, but returned that lost old man to his senior housing place, and helped drive that bloody, injured bicyclist who crashed along the rock walls of (palomaris?) to the hospital
hooky heroes. how could anyone be mad at us?
and i love to read and write and blog and comment,
but we need to get together over coffee
email your number to me: kay.s@comcast.net
and give michael a big, proud of you, love you, squeeze from auntie sandy -and xoxox to your parents until i can do it myself
big hug my long lost friend! -so glad for your visit and your words here! i'll read this six times
love, ~s.
singtome: a kindred spirit. and, i just know i'm in for one of those "awakenings" as my young ones enter into their own teenage adventures
and i know there's a 1-800 number for runaways...
not sure sometimes, which one of us will be using it
bbf, you are so lucky to have re-hooked up with your friend who still cares after all this time. WOW!!!
And what a lesson to learn at such a young age. And what to expect from my kids as they get older and.....DRIVE!!! OMG
kmg/bbf: thanks! i do feel lucky to hear from sue-sue
and the fact both of us are still alive and good people at heart should give hope to parents of troubled teens everywhere ")
(someone may need to remind me in a few years that i typed that)
When I first saw the top of this post, I though 'Ut-oh' LoL!
I believe all fourteen years old perceive themselves on some levels immune from the bad stuff. It really is a miracle half of us are even still here!
Love the turn your comments have taken!
slb: if they ever event a time machine
i wouldn't want to jump forward or step back
just wait for a blissful day then
"freeze!"
sometime before mine are teens please
my parents, always with the prayer
"may your children be just like you."
i'm hoping God's too tied up.. or at least that my prayer for the opposite cuts in line
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