I’ve been on the lam for more than 20 years.
When I was 19 or so, I rented a trailer with Mike, a guy I graduated high school with. He was the Senior Class President. During commencement, his speech (the President and Valedictorian got to speak) included a hello to his wife and baby.
A couple of years later, he was divorced and living the bachelor life in a trailer park. The fun lasted until Mike got a DUI and lost his license. With no way to get to work (the grocery store he could walk to from the trailer park fired him for stealing beer – his ex-girlfriend turned him in) he had to move back in with his parents and went to rehab, where his legendary talent in the game of “Quarters” just wasted away. Tragic, really.
I guess there was a lease involved with the trailer, but Mike had handled that. I paid the full rent for a few months, but decided to move away and go to college in a town that didn’t have a liquor store every 100 yards or so.
After a few months, the landlady put out a warrant for my arrest for failure to honor a contract. Also, I had left about 30 plastic milk crates that were the backbone of my home entertainment center. The people from Land O’ Lakes wanted to have a chat with me.
To add to it, the week after I left, the post office forwarded a letter to my new address from the Kentucky DMV, telling me my license had been suspended for six months. Something about speeding and points. I think I was framed.
By then, I had already gotten a West Virginia license, so I WAS truthful when I checked the “no” box next to the “is your license currently suspended in another state?” question.
I often wonder where Mike is...
