It was Wednesday, January 18, 1989.<\/p>\n
I was getting ready to head out to one of my bars. Wyatt was about to head out to his.\u00a0 He’d just sent one of his girls – a bartender from a bar on University where he worked – on her way before Teresa came over for the night.\u00a0 He was drunk and high.<\/p>\n
After the blowup a few weeks ago, we hadn’t talked much.\u00a0 I was looking for a way either to get him out of there or, perhaps even better, get me <\/em>out of there.<\/p>\n I’d lived with roommates pretty steadily since my sophomore year of college. Some were good, some were insane – but this was getting ridiculous.\u00a0 Maybe I can figure out a way to afford a place of my own<\/em>, I thought as I heard Wyatt padding down the stairs.<\/p>\n “You got the rent or NSP for the last two months?”<\/p>\n He snorted.\u00a0 “I told you I’d pay that when all the product gets moved”.\u00a0 He walked on, apparently thinking that settled it.<\/p>\n I’ve heard that before<\/em>, I thought about saying.\u00a0 But what’s the point?<\/em> “Uh huh”, I muttered, tying my shoes.<\/p>\n “Because I’m the only person in the house who knows how to handle them”.<\/p>\n “Whatever”.<\/p>\n He padded back upstairs.<\/p>\n I headed out to the car and started driving to work.<\/p>\n He’s dealing drugs out of the house.\u00a0 AND he’s a moron.\u00a0 And when, not if, he gets busted, I’ll end up in a world of s**t too.\u00a0 What can I do?<\/em><\/p>\n Part of my brain strained to recollect the names of cops I could talk to, that I’d met while covering police stuff for neighborhood papers back in ’86 and ’87.<\/p>\n Nothing<\/em>, another part of my brain thought.\u00a0 Not a damn thing.\u00a0 Ever.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was Wednesday, January 18, 1989. I was getting ready to head out to one of my bars. Wyatt was about to head out to his.\u00a0 He’d just sent one of his girls – a bartender from a bar on University where he worked – on her way before Teresa came over for the night.\u00a0 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4025","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-twenty-years-ago-today"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4025","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4025"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4025\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4025"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4025"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4025"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n“Hey”, he said padding past my room again.\u00a0 “I’m thinkin’ maybe all the guns in the house should go through me for safekeeping”.<\/p>\n