80% of 90: Recollections of a Correctional Center Stay Cont.

Chapter 1
The door led to a small vestibule, monitored by a security camera and containing a door on automatic locks. We were told to stand backs to the wall. The security camera stared into the room and seconds later the door before us opened with a pop. The female guard swung the door open and led us down the corridor. The hallway was vaguely reminiscent of the grade school I’d attended. It had large concrete blocks, colored all in white, with green trim running along the ceiling and door jams. Posters lined the walls, but instead of featuring phrases like “Reading is Awesome!” and “Reach for the Stars”, they read “Prop cars are everywhere, steal one and go to jail” and “Report Forcible Sodomy”. Had I been asked in grade school, what hallways I’d walk down at over the course of my life, this would not have been one of them.
Numerous doors and their adjacent windows looked in on break rooms and offices. The people inside sipped coffee and chatted about recent events. It was impossible to tell that two floors up men and women spent the majority of their day in a room no bigger than your average master bathroom. The female correctional officer, or C.O., took us down the rest of the hall and to another door; only I was a little more familiar with this one.
I had been arrested seven days earlier after attending a reunion concert for one of the greatest punk rocks bands of the nineteen nineties, Blink-182. I had originally planned to get a ride from a friend, but his car was full and I wasn’t able to ride along. I briefly contemplated not going at all, which in hindsight would have been the smartest decision I ever could have made, but I was not going to miss my chance to see a band that had been at the forefront of my interest in music, and who could break up again at a moment’s notice.
I had left work early that day to get home and be prepared to depart for the show in time to get my ticket from will call and to meet up with my friends Dave and Tyler who wanted to pregame in the parking lot.
I got home and went to my bedroom. I threw on a t-shirt I’d bought at a Goodwill, a new pair of Levi’s, my grey and black striped hoodie, and my Osaka Tigers. I took it easy for a bit, had a cigarette, and decided to head to the show.
I called Dave on the way and discovered not only were they already there but they were enjoying Pabst Blue Ribbon, my personal favorite when it comes to beer under seven dollars for a twelve pack. I told him I’d be there soon.
I pulled into the amphitheater parking lot, and could hear music emanating from the stage through my open car windows. The opening band had already taken the stage, but they were of little interest to me. My main concern was finding Dave and Tyler and having a preshow party. I found them sitting in Dave’s car. I hopped in the back and cracked a PBR.
“I can’t wait for this show,” Tyler exclaimed, “but I’m gonna slam a few more beers first.”
“How long you guys been here?” I asked.
“About an hour.”
I could tell by the four remaining PBR cans that it had, at least been a productive hour. As we sat and caught up with each other, Dave noticed some interesting events taking place behind us. An SUV filled with young, highly attractive girls had come under the suspicion of the event staff. Soon event staffed were assisted by police officers, and the alcohol the girls had in their vehicle was no longer a private matter. The three of us were enthralled with the events taking place behind us, and made numerous jokes at the girls’ expense. I can only now imagine the worry going through their minds, and how I would soon have thoughts of my own.
We finished our beers and I ran to the will call desk to grab my ticket. Dave and Tyler had seats, while I was relegated to the lawn. We planned to meet up later and I went to find a few other friends that I knew were there.

Blink-182 hit the stage just as I found my friend’s, Brian and Stephanie, I had a fresh beer in hand and was singing along to all my favorite songs. The show was everything I had hoped it would be. I departed Brian’s company to find Brittany, the girl I’d been seeing. I wandered amongst the throngs of people, and found her and her friends dancing at the front of the lawn. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and rested my chin on her shoulder. She knew it was me, and wrapped her arms around mine. She turned her head and looked at me, her brown eyes sparkling in the stage lighting. We swayed together for a few more songs, including Miss You, which would soon become all too fitting. Before I knew it the show had come to a close. I told her I was off to find Dave to do something after the show.
“Okay babe. Be careful. I love you.”
It was the first time she had ever said that and it took me by surprise. I smiled.
“I will. Love you too.” She faded into the crowd as I walked away.

Finding Dave was impossible. His cell phone just rang and rang. Later I would learn that he had been kicked out of the show for fighting someone, and that he enjoyed the rest of the show from his car. At the time however, I had no chance of finding him in the congestion of people. I assumed he went home and I decided to do the same. Dave, however, had still been there I just didn’t remember where he had parked and ended up going to the casino, which I also wanted to do, but opted against it because I didn’t want to go alone.
I hopped in my car and rolled down the windows. It was a gorgeous seventy degree star lit evening. I fired up a cigarette and waited in the long line of post show traffic. It broke up after about ten minutes and I was on my way home listening to the new album by the band Brand New.

Wind whipped around me as I cruised through the clear October night. My mind drifted to Brittany and how happy I was. It had been a long time since a girl had told me she loved me. My heart had been shattered by my last love and in an effort to push that pain away I medicated myself with drugs and alcohol. Now I had Brittany, but some habits die harder than others.
I was and still am a fan of taking back roads. My route home that night led past a small airport that had, at one time, been nothing but farmland. I drove that road at least four times a week, but on that night, unfortunately, so did the police.
I had just reached into my pack of cigarettes and as the filter pressed against my lips, the red and blue lights of a police cruiser sparked behind me.
In what seemed like seconds, the officer had approached my already rolled down window.
“How you doing tonight sir?”
“What can I do for you officer?” I didn’t even answer his question.
I could not believe my misfortune. My headlight had burnt out on the way home, and in the midst of my thoughts and the alcohol, I hadn’t even noticed. He leaned in a little further and shone his flashlight on me.
“Have you been drinking tonight sir?”