Stories
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At some point I went to the police station down on Valencia, since the situation I was in was dangerous. He could trap me to the white house or a state senator. But they didn't believe me and I had to talk by phone intercom thru the thick bullet proof glass and I thought maybe the mad phone caller could intercept the call if he knew where I was. The tallest building in the Mission was six stories, the phone company building at twenty-fifth and Capp Streets. I was just south on Bernal hill and with binoculars the mad phone caller could conceivably watch my movements and look into my curtainless apartment.
Well in prison we weren't done yet. Across the barred hallway were two retard jokers, who looked to some other jail cell besides ours, out of our sight-line. Apparently each time this poor wretch would get to sleep they would rattle the barred door to wake him up. Now you see why these people have to be kept in jail. They thought it so funny but for me I knew that sleep was hopeless. Not a wink. Finally a tough guy from our cell starts screaming at these guys and told them he was going to kick their asses. Then they shut up.
They let us out about seven thirty Am - just before breakfast so we were on starvation rations. So I took a bus home and Sonoma and I swapped stories. But then I had to go to court. My court appointed lawyer met me at the chambers door. I quickly gave him a synopsis. Then he went on to the next guy who broke down and started crying. The cops keep dragging me back in he told him. I don't know nothing.
(7 of 9)
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