Friday, November 16, 2012


BOLO - Not This Guy

I’m pretty sure this is NOT the future my mother envisioned for me, when I was 15. I think she wanted me to marry some rich doctor or lawyer. At one point she wanted me to be an anchor woman?! Or a model, or other idiotic things. Always things I thought were boring or stupid, or damn nigh impossible. Nothing I would have enjoyed, certainly. My dad was pretty laid back about what I wanted to do; he knew me and knew I wasn’t going for all that folderol.

I started thinking about that last night, when I heard about Ray. I heard about Ray when I called Alex (my hardware counterpart in the ‘hood) to see if he was coming over for Thanksgiving, but Alex is going to Ocala and giving us his turkey. We’re cooking chicken and a ham for the ALF (Assisted Living Facility) people because they don’t seem to get fed very well and that’s what JC wants, so we’re by God doing it. I’m happy about it, too.

Well, during the course of that conversation, Alex mentioned that “Ray-Ray” as he’s called, is the psychopath, who stole the neon Buccaneers’ helmet sign from his neighbor that was caught on video one night. The warrant had actually been expunged from the Hillsborough Country Sheriff’s website, because, according to the Nebraska grapevine, Ray was some kind of low-level informant for the FBI, which pissed me off all to hell.

He’d already skipped on the Wade thing, true or not, gotten away with the domestic violence charge, pleaded down to Misdemeanor 1, but the Grand Theft Charge of more than 300.00, and less than 5k had gone *poof* and nothing. What had been an open warrant for his arrest was no longer even posted on the HCS website after the Feds came looking for him around Neb Ave. What the hell?

Yesterday, I don’t know what shit he pulled and damned if I didn’t regret having moved off Nebraska for say, oh, all of 5 seconds, since I no longer live directly on said avenue. I heard a sharp WHOOP! And then the usual bunch of Nebraska mayhem. This must have been early afternoon, since I typically sleep until noon-ish.

So, Alex tells me with great glee about Ray and to check it out. Anybody who’s honest has been plagued by Ray and his bullshit lies and stunts. Sure enough, it’s all there on the HCS webby-web. I’m not sure what he did that the Feds felt they had to rescind whatever little penny-ante protection they had given him, but all bets are off. Or maybe he just pushed it one too many times with the TPD. He really is an arrogant asshole with no brain cells to back it up.

The funniest thing in all of this? I called his ex-girlfriend, a very good friend of mine who’s possibly one of the funniest people on the face of the earth. Let’s call her H. H has had the second of her exes, living on her couch for a couple of weeks. When it rains, it pours. I had to tell H that we were having Thanksgiving at our place, blah, blah, blah, and couldn't come to hers, so I had a good reason to call, or let's just put lipstick on this bulldog, snoop.

I proceed to tell her about her first ex, Ray. She then proceeds to tell me about Tommy, the 2nd ex, sort of, the other weasel who lived with us all at FSJ, who used to piss me off and then run off. He had a laugh like the old “Penguin” character on the original “Batman” series. He was this little ferret of a man. 

H thought he was pretty okay, but he lied like a cheap Persian rug and nothing that came out of his mouth was the truth. JC was onto him immediately, and pretty much ran interference for me. Anyway, I didn’t think much about him, until H brought up the fact that he had called her a few weeks ago and was staying with her. I was alarmed right away. H had a hard time with Ray and didn’t need another user in her life. She spent quite a while getting back on her feet after her divorce. I needn’t have worried.

On November 8, 2012, H sent Tommy away and told him her apartment complex had a 2-week stay clause and he would have to go. Smart woman. She and I laughed about this. On November 9, 2012, Tommy allegedly tried to rob a bank, with a gun. You can read about it here. I told her all we had to do was get a couple of my exes locked up. Some of them have been in the Orient Road Jail, I know. Today, Alex came by and told JC and I that Bill somebody on our block got arrested for God-knows-what. “It does happen in threes, right?” Alex asked?

So, no one can say that I haven't had an interesting time. Bank robbers, psychopaths, dopers in the 'hood and all. I have enough material here for about 50 books. When I was talking to H last night, JC just shook his head. We'd look at each other and just bust out laughing. Sometimes, that's all you can do. Quandarious, indeed. 
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