Georgia Bound: 4 – Isolation

Bail Bond agency in Indianapolis

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Upon waking, I began to attack the other appendage with more precision and determination. Despite my efforts of concealment from the camera above me, they figured something was up. “What are you doing?” the officer demanded as he appeared in the doorway. I showed him. (It is beneath me to lie.) “If you don’t stop doing that, we will pepper spray you and chain you down!” He closed the door.

If there is one thing that I could not stand the thought of, it is restraint. I complied with his wishes.

May 7, 2011: Bail Hearing

“The huge gap between rich and poor, globally and within nations, is not only morally wrong; it is also a source of practical problems.” – Dalai Lama

Dressed in bright orange clothing, hands and ankles chained, I walked single-file with a group or others to the court room. It didn’t seem so bad, at first. People were being fined for a few hundred dollars at a time. Surely, I would be out soon! When my name was called, I stepped up to here my charges: simple assault, simple battery and terroristic threats. WTF! What had I done?

“Your Honor,” I addressed the court. “I was highly inebriated and I have no recollection of the evening in question. I do, however, take full responsibility for my actions because I chose to drink that night. I also look forward to participating in AA [Alcoholics Anonymous] and receiving therapy.”

The judge asked if Kayla was in the court. She was not. He instructed his bailiff to get her on the phone. “Sorry!” the judge informed her. “Once you dial 911, it falls into our hands!” She was trying to get me out, but the county didn’t care. They had taken over the charges.

Bond was set at $7,500!

We were escorted to a holding area that had a phone. Finally! I could make a call. The phone only allowed collect calls. Luckily, the bond company accepted. I’ll never forget the phone number . . . 404-JAIL-SUX. I explained to the lady on the phone that I did not have Kayla’s number, but my wife did. (Kayla was the only person in Georgia that I really knew.) The woman from the bond office got my wife on the phone. While on three-way, Jenni told me that Kayla was trying to get the charges dropped and/or bail me out. This was good news! The bad news is that the bond agency would not help me. Normally, they would accept a twelve percent fee to bail me out. Unfortunately, I still held my Massachusetts ID. I was a flight risk. The entire $7,500 would have to be surrendered for me to exit the facility! Only rich people have that kind of money laying around! I would not be bailed out.

I was forced to once again don the blue dress and was placed back in my cell. Later, I was retrieved and brought to a room to change my clothing. I removed my blue dress in front of a guard. (There is no way that anyone could pay me enough to watch other men strip. Sorry. It’s just not my cup of tea!) I was given a paper outfit and told to put it on. It was much like something you would see in a movie set in ancient Greece. It was like a long shirt that stopped above the knees and tied at the waist with a plastic strip. I would definitely not be making the cover of GQ Magazine this month! Whomever the fashion designer is for Bartow County jail, he or she must have a twised sense of humor. First a blue dress and now this!

I was escorted to a cell in the isolation ward. The heavy metal door slammed behind me. Despite my being in solitary confinement, I was not alone!

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