I didn’t come all the way to Vegas to go to jail. I just wanted to see if Mama was all right. Say hi to Daddy. Shit, I’m facing a court date here, and possibly more time when I get back to California. I’ma have to stay here with Mama to see when I have to appear and if they put me on probation or make me do a few months in the county jail, but fuck me if they find out about those other DUIs, in California. Shit. This technological age is good for some things but not when you’ve got a record. They can find out the history of your entire life in a matter of minutes.

I need to send Donnetta a little something. A token. Enough to be symbolic. But she won’t understand what being a little short represents. She could care less what it means to a man’s ego when he can’t take care of his kid. It’s too hard trying to get her—or other people—to understand. So you stop trying.

Damn, there they are. Why did Paris have to bring Dingus? I don’t want him to see me anywhere near this kinda place. It don’t matter whether I’m a criminal or not. It’s still jail, any way you look at it. But, sadly enough, most of these dudes in here ain’t criminals. They’re just stupid. Like me. Behind bars for committing crimes against machines, businesses that rip people off, or ourselves. Hell, I didn’t do nothing to nobody. I was just driving under the influence. I wasn’t even close to being drunk, but I’m glad I didn’t hurt nobody, even though I don’t ever get so drunk I can’t drive. I’m not that stupid.

The redheaded guy with steel-blue eyes hands me my stuff in a plastic bag: my beat-up black wallet; my Casio watch that’s got a memory and a calculator; a high-school class ring with a red stone that this girl gave me as proof of her love; a crushed-up pack of Kools with three bent cigarettes in it; two red-and-yellow Tylenol Extra Strength; and ninety-two cents in change. The dude that gives me the bag look like he’s waiting for me to thank him, but I don’t. He ain’t doing me no favor.

There’s a long buzz, and I push the beige metal door open, which I take my time doing. Paris got her hands on her hips, but she lets one side drop. I guess she’s trying to act like she ain’t too pissed. Janelle looks like her mind is somewhere else and she just came along for the ride. I could be anybody. Dingus walks over to me and puts his arm over my shoulder. “What up, Uncle Lewis?” He breaks into a smile, showing off those silver braces. Handsome boy. Smart. Not sure if he knows what the real deal is, living in the world he lives in, but regardless, he’s a good kid. He’s got the rest of his life to learn what’s happening in the streets, or avoid ’em altogether.