Sentenced to Life

I was standing in the parking lot of the Los Angeles county jail. I had just spent ten days there because no one would bail me out. A special narcotics team had kicked in the door of an apartment I was in and arrested me for possession of drugs and a gun. I'd been up for three days, drinking Jack Daniels, augmenting it with cocaine and pills. When the door crashed in, it seemed like a nightmare. In the next week and a half, I called everyone I could think of who might be able to get me out. Some made promises about bail but they were just spinning my wheels. On the tenth day I had a visitor. It was an old friend who had been through her own hard times and found recovery through another twelve-step program. She had put up her house for bond and they processed me out.