Barry finally resurfaced late in the evening of our third day in Chicago. He said that he had been in jail for the last 72 hours. Apparently, the big red pimp daddy Buick looking car belonged to Barry's mother and he did not ask to borrow it. She reported it stolen. The police found the car in the parking lot of his mothers beauty salon where they had just busted him for breaking and entering. The police confiscated the car and everything in it, and threw Barry into the clinker where he probably slept more comfortably and ate healthier than we did.
Once he returned, we all packed up and left Toms. We ended up at a hotel further east on Lakeshore Drive. Tami had spoken to her mom, and she had to get home like that day. Both our moms were pissed, but I was better at avoiding mine. Barry somehow came up with enough money for one plane ticket home, and it went to Tami, while I stayed for a few more days without her. So, how did Barry come up with the money for a hotel and plane ticket? TO BE CONTINUED
1 comment:
Hardest thing I ever had to do my friend was leave.....at 16 it was a battle of my wanting to stay with you and a battle with Marilyn - need I say more. I regret to this day having to leave you.
It takes a special kind of low-life to steal your mom's car and break into her shop now doesn't it? Maybe that's why I wasn't shocked when the UNICEF babies grew up and stoled his mom's previously cashed checks...... wonder if they have their own "wing" in prison.... OY!!
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