I’M NO LONGER
AN EMBARRASSMENT
TO MY FAMILY!

 
I have some troubled relatives. One of my siblings thinks I’m his personal ATM. He’s always going in and out of jail. Small stuff, but I have to bail him out. And then there’s my cousin Shelly, who is a doofus; he used to steal my car from my driveway and just drive it around and smash it somewhere. I finally got a video cam on my house.

Next, I wound up in jail. Everybody’s minds were blown; “Bert wound up in jail!” I’m 75 and the last guy you’d expect in jail, right?  I mean, you read this blog. My relatives gloated.

Here’s  the story. One night I took a Valium, which I’m wont to do on occasion, and got in my car. I know, “Don’t handle heavy machinery or operate a fork lift.” I wasn’t going to chain-saw any trees. I was driving to Fairmount Circle for some ibuprofen. I smashed into a mailbox.

A United States mailbox costs $5,000. I know, believe me.

The cop made me walk a line, which I couldn’t. He handcuffed me and took me to the Shaker Heights jail. Going into the cell at the police station, I said, “You got any espresso?” I was trying to lighten the mood. No go.

I sat in the cell for six hours — me, a toilet and a sink. Finally my brother — the one who is always hitting me up for money — bailed me out for $176, cash.

Now I’m on a year’s probation. And don’t forget the 5K for the mailbox. And there was another 4K for the lawyer.

Was it worth it? Yes. I’m no longer an embarrassment to my family. I’ve been to jail!

[fiction]