Page 116 of Happy Hour

“No, I’ll come there.”

He laughed yet again. “Did you forget you’re in jail?”

Right.

“I mean when I get out. This is just a misunderstanding.” I sighed. “What did Tate say?”

“Well he’s not too happy. He just screamed a lot and said he couldn’t believe after all he’s done for you that you would assault his girlfriend.” He was quiet for a moment. “You know Tate has connections with Simplex. Why would you risk something like that?”

“I didn’t do anything!” I yelled, instantly forgetting who I was talking to. “Sorry, Charlie...I’m just...Sway thinks I left with Chelsea because I wanted her.”

“I see.”

“Is she home yet?”

“Yeah,” his voice seemed concerned for good reason. “she went straight into her room.”

“Will you tell her...never mind. I’ll tell her myself.”

“That’s probably a good idea. See you soon kid.” He laughed. “Well, I hope so.”

He was just like Sway with the fucking laughing.

Laugh it up chuckles.

I know he had some sort of satisfaction that I was in jail.

I sat in that cell theentirenight, Chester and me, since my dad refused to post my bail.

I learned a lot about Chester last night. He was a drunk, his only family was his dog and he kept it that way because he couldn’t speak. He loved NASCAR, and more importantly...me.

“You’re Jameson Riley!” Chester exclaimed jumping up and down when I entered the cell.

Now if you’ve never seen a two-hundred and fifty pound man jumping up and down, you’re not missing much let me tell you. I feared for my life.

“No I’m not.” I told him backing away towards the corner of the cell near the questionable toilet. “You have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Yes you are.” He smiled and showed me a picture of us at a race. “I met you before.”

I agreed that it was me, since I feared for my safety an all.

He forced me to sign his chest, and I will say forced because he pinned me to the wall until I did. He later informed me he was going to have my signature tattooed on him.

The dude was wacked out of his goddamn mind. I never did figure out why he was in there, not that I could have understood the toothless bastard anyways.

I’ll tell you something else I realized...I had a real problem with the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Office after that night.

Who thought it’d be a good idea to put me, an extremely good-looking race car driver, in a cell with a male prostitute? It was complete stupidity in my book.

What kind of operation were they running here?

When I was released, I asked how much his bail was set for and the charges. Maybe I could be a nice guy after all and give this wacko a break by posting his bail.

The clerk laughed at me, “Oh, Chester...he’s in here weekly.”

“Seriously,” I raised my eyebrows as I signed the release papers.

“Yeah,” she leaned in closer, her brown eyes amused. “Male prostitution,” She said winking.

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