September 10, 2005

• Sarah’s Saturday Keyboard Confession

  Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been…. ummm…. dunno how long it’s been since I’ve asked for forgiveness….

  1.
  “So, did she do it then? Did she sleep with someone for money so she could buy expensive trinkets and eat at nice restaurants?”

  “Or did she sleep with someone for money so she could see her
  doctors and pay for medication and finally pay off some part of her
  student loans?”

  “Did she sleep with someone for money?…”

  It’s like asking the “How many licks….” question. Answer: The world may never know.

  But be careful – some people say it can be addictive…

   

  2.
  I went to court last Friday. The judge granted me the
  restraining order. I had to deliver the final Official Restraining
  Order to B while he was in jail. So back to Elmwood I went.

  “I need to give this to on of your inmates.”
  “Ok, we can do that
  for you…. and it looks like you’ve brought the necessary 3 copies….
  Ok, one question though… are you one of the named parties?”
  “Yes.”
  “Well, see, you need to have someone who is not on the Restraining Order deliver this to us.”
  “What?!
  I did this before just a few weeks ago and the officers …. the people
  at court told me if he was still incarcerated that I could just bring
  it here myself and it would be the jail that ‘served’ it.”
  “I’m sorry ma’am, but see here where it says you have to have a third party serve the order?”
  “Yes, YOU are the third party. This facility is the third party.”
  “No ma’am, see, you give this to us, and we are serving it on your behalf.”
  “Exactly! YOU – the SERGEANT – whoever gives this piece of paper to him IS THE THIRD PARTY.”

  We argue back and forth for a bit. Then he says

  “You could just get a stranger to serve it – like her,” and he points to the lady waiting in line behind me.
  Frustrated,
  I ask her “Would you be willing to put your name and address and phone
  number and sign this saying that you don’t know me?”
  She says “…. Will they be calling me?”
  “No, it’s just some official paperwork stuff.”
  “…. Well……… I’m really busy, and I wouldn’t be able to talk to them if they called me….”
  I
  turn to the officer “Are they gonna call her?” and he says “Highly
  unlikely, but they might. It’s rare that they ever need to do that.”
  She
  still hesitates so I say “It would be like a 1 in a million chance for
  them to call you…. It would be like winning the lottery kind of odds
  that they’ll call you.”
  “…. No, I don’t think I should…. “and she continues to sip her drink.

  “Is there anyone in this room who can help me?! I just need a random
  stranger to take this piece of paper and hand it to the officer.” I
  yell into the jail’s waiting area. No one meets my eye. I’m not
  surprised, seeing as how all these people are related to criminals and
  prolly the last thing in the world they want is to sign a piece of
  paper in front of an Officer.

  I take a deep breath and turn towards the Officer again, but I can’t
  get any words out. I can’t breathe. And I put my hand over my eyes and
  try to,,,,, but the next breath ends in a shudder and suddenly tears of
  frustration run down my cheeks. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, but I
  started crying uncontrollably and slightly embarrassed, but frustrated
  and angry, I say to the Officer

  “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I don’t mean to make a scene but it’s taken me 2 months to get this far and …..”
  “We can’t do anything about it…”
  “….
  BUT HE’S GETTING OUT ON THE 15th AND HE’S GOING TO KILL ME AND YOU
  WON’T DO WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO!  ……  TO PROTECT
  AND SERVE. ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU DO???? PROTECT AND SERVE????” and I’m yelling at this point and people stare, but I’m crying so hard and pounding the counter with my fist.

  The officer has me sit down and he makes  a few calls. After
  about an hour, he finally signs off on the paper I need to mail back to
  court and I walk out into the bright afternoon sun, across the desert
  landscape of the parking lot.

   

  3.
  I have, more or less, accepted the fact that he could kill me
  with one bullet while I’m walking across the pet store parking lot
  after work one night. But I needed to get that Restraining Order
  accomplished. It’s the principle of the thing. It’s like draping your
  blankie across your face, an impenetrable shield against the Boogeyman
  and the Dark.

   

  4.
  “Why don’t you move?”
  “I don’t wanna.”
  “But it would make sense to move -move where he can’t find you, so he doesn’t know where you’ll be at night.”
  “I hate moving.”
  “It’s dangerous….”
  It’s
  the principle of the thing. It’s like making a fortress out of sofa
  cushions and hiding inside, knowing that as long as you stay inside,
  stay smart, the Monsters outside can’t get to you.

  5.
  “I think you should move.”
  “Move where?”
  “Anywhere else than where you’re at – a block away from where he lives.”
  “I like my apartment.”
  “It’s dangerous….”
  It’s
  the principle of the thing. It’s standing up to the bully rather
  continuing to give her your lunch money so she’ll let you use the
  bathroom. It’s foolish, I know. But I’m damn stubborn…..

   

  Why don’t you just ask for help? You don’t need to do this alone, you know.
  “I do – ask for help.”
  And?….
  “And it’s sad to see who steps up to bat for me.”
  I’m sorry to hear that.
  “Well, people have their own lives to live and yadda yadda yadda.”
  I admire your courage.
  “I do too…..”

  • 11:52 am
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