The Time I Found God In A Trailer Park (Pt. 1)

So I was 18 years old. This was between my attempt at college and before I went to hair school. After I failed horribly at being a college student I was drinking a ton. I wasn’t keeping a job. I was in between homes a lot because my mom and I weren’t getting along mostly due to my drinking. At that time, I had just went through some real rock bottom moments. I had had a job and was living out of my car then decided to spend my whole paycheck on cocaine thinking I could double my money and resell it. Instead I did it ALL in two days. Stopped going to work. Was living off change. I then found another job being a bartender at a random Indian themed bar off 35 and Royal. I spent a couple weeks between this horrible drug bender and getting this new job to realize that I needed to sober up because I was getting taken advantage of sexually. I had no place to live. I got kicked out of the place I was staying on the couch. I had plenty of friends but I was so ashamed of how bad things had gotten. To be that young, you know, you think that this is how the rest of my life will be. Like I’ve ruined things so badly that there might not be anymore chances. Even though that is somewhat naive, I think its a good mentality to have because otherwise you might spend the rest of your life rationalizing your bad behaviour because you don’t think you’ll run out of chances or bridges to burn.

On my first night at this bar, I actually lied about being a bartender. I was just making up the drinks if they were complicated. I guess people thought I was funny because one table tipped me $200. I gave the other $100 to the barback because I thought that’d be nice. I drank my first redbull that night. Closed the bar and drove all the way back to Royse City which was an hour away. Before I got too far I got in my first car accident with another vehicle (the time I drove through someone’s backyard is another story for another day) while assuming I had the right away at this intersection. The accident wasn’t bad AT ALL and we traded info and parted ways.

I had used clear tape to hold on my front bumper of my car because it was a clean break and ripped it off during the accident. I told my mom the next morning. She went ballistic but I reassured her I could pay for it because I was doing so well at this new job.

That day despite having all these awful things happen to me inside the punk scene in Dallas, I was going to a day show at Aaron Margolies house. I had huge “Fear Of Missing Out”. I was afraid of not being relevant anymore. I fed off that attention of being well known. I felt like I always had to up the anty every time I went out  to maintain importance. I told myself that this was the last time. I was going to quit going out after this. But I wasn’t going to drink. Instead I went alone and just hung out. I had a lot of enemies there that day. A lot of people didn’t like me because of my disregard for … well being and that I dated a lot of guys. When I dated these guys I didn’t have a regard for them either. I didn’t think anyone really liked me so I wasn’t being nice. I wouldn’t say I was mean either. I’d just “date” anyone I wanted whenever I wanted. Men hate that, so I found out.

So here I am hanging out in Mesquite. I’m at this party where there’s people of all ages. I notice one girl in particular is young. I know she’s young because she’s my ex boyfriend’s girlfriend after me. So I didn’t know her personally and they weren’t together anymore, but I knew that she was 15. As the day party goes on, I notice she’s wasted. Which could be okay but she’s going up to guys and making out with random dudes. I’m kind of side eyeing the whole situation.

Then she passes out on the ground like half conscious and this guy gets on top of her and starts fingering her in front of everyone up her skirt. It’s still daylight so this is very visible. I don’t even personally know this girl. No one is doing anything. No one is stopping it. I know this guy is near 20 years old. I walk over there and tell him to get the fuck off of her. He starts saying she was asking for it and came onto him. I just don’t give a fuck she’s 15 years old. She can’t even talk at this point. I ask someone else to help me pick her up and we walk out to my car. As I’m walking out some of the dudes that don’t like me come out to the front yard and start talking shit to me. Being sober I just say, “You really think I give a fuck about this petty drama when some girl is getting raped? Like ya’ll are so laughable”.

The thing is I have been this girl. And no one does anything. I would have wanted it done for me. So she’s not forthcoming with any information about where she lives or her mom’s number. I just want to get her home. Apparently she lives way way way far north like near Frisco. A friend of her’s finally gives me her home number and I get ahold of her mom on a borrowed cell phone of her friend’s. We agree to meet in Plano. I didn’t have to be at work until 9pm that day but I was already feeling like .... I’m going to call in. On my second day. I’m feeling that real hard right now. 

The girl is passed out in the car and when we meet up with her mom, she seems unphased by the whole thing. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her mom what happened but when I met her mom I was like ...doesn’t seem like the type to care. Seems more likely to just yell at me. Or her daughter. 

So I turn around and head back towards Dallas. I’m going down 75 Southbound when I think, ‘Oh geeze, I’m going to call Megan and see if she’s down to chill and hear about my crazy day.’ So I exit Mockingbird and hit up the Dr. Pepper station and use the payphone. I talk to Megan quickly and tell her I’ll be at her place within the hour. When I turn around there’s a young man standing there waiting to use to pay phones I assume.

This guy is young. Probably 24. White. Tall. Wearing a wife beater and gym shorts. I really don’t think anything of it. He stops me to talk saying he had just got locked out of his apartment at the Phoenix which was right next door. He was wondering if I could give him a ride to his cousin’s house down the street to grab his spare key. His wallet and everything was upstairs but if I could do this favor for him he’d give me $20 and would be so grateful. The Phoenix at the time was super nice and swanky. I could see him getting locked out while going to put out trash or something. The story seemed feasible at the time. He said it was just an exit away. I shrugged and thought, ‘why not?’. I wasn’t going to work that night so I might as well make $20 and help someone out.

I told him sure and that I hate when things like that happens and totally didn’t mind helping him out. I liked helping people. But that night and that ride changed my life forever.