The Adventures of Topher, Part III

We now resume the tale of Topher where we left off in April.

Current Mood: Anxious.

So this sketchy guy kept walking back and forth in front of the apartment, peering inside. I was just loaded enough to think I had to punch the guy.

When I opened the front door, he took off running. I flew out the front door and across the parking lot after him. He jumped into a car and sped into the street.

I thought I’d cut him off in front of the lot and get a lick in. Then I heard Dog yelling, “Toph, get the f””k down!”

The car at the end of the street was coming fast toward our driveway, and I was in the middle of the street. I heard Dog, stopped, and looked at the car for a split second when I started hearing gunfire.

The shots rang out as I tried to get some cover. I hauled it around a car, dove onto the ground, and rolled until I was behind a tire, facing our building.

One guy looked like he was playing G.I. Joe. He was jumping up, firing twice, then rolling on the ground and popping up to fire again.

I saw the neighbors shooting back. One guy looked like he was playing G.I. Joe. He was jumping up, firing twice, then rolling on the ground and popping up to fire again. The other neighbor was poised in a kneeling position, ducked behind one of the support beams and waiting patiently for his shot. You could tell he’d been here before, I thought, as he let loose five or six shots in succession.

Their cousin, Cory, a 400-pound dude, was laying on the ground spread eagle, waiting, as I was, for the shots to cease.

Soon enough, they did. It was a crazy feeling. The first thing I remember hearing was Dog asking, “Toph, are you hit?”

I had to check, ’cause I wasn’t sure. Thankfully, none of us got hit, and I don’t think any of their guys did, either.

This guy Sean was over at our house getting a dime sack when the stuff went down. He had gone into the back bedroom and hid under the bed. I’ll never forget him running out of that apartment screaming how we were “bout it.” That was the last time I’d see Sean.

So the guys told me how close I was to being hit as we gathered the two pounds from under the dresser and hid it in my car before the police got there.

We got the big stuff out and got evicted from Lion’s Way as well as banned from any other rental place in the area. They found something like 30 shells in the street. It was the craziest night I had ever had up to that point.

I moved in with a friend and continued to sell bud. I got a DWI later that semester, as well. I failed out and moved home again, where things actually got worse.

I got back into cocaine use in LaPlace and eventually needed another source besides pawning to pay for it. So I robbed a house, just taking small stuff, and didn’t get caught. So I went in again, same house, more stuff.

Then I decided to go once more and take an accomplice. The same house, one last time, the house directly across the street from my parents. But this time wasn’t so successful. While we were inside, a cop showed up at the back door.

I spotted him first and told my boy to get down. On three, we were going to book it out of the front door. (Let me remind you of my 4.5-second 40 speed.) So on the count of three, we took off. We didn’t get far, though.

They got my boy first, and it wasn’t long before they caught me, too. It doesn’t matter how fast you run; you can’t outrun the radios.

So they booked me and my boy on simple burglary. I got three counts. We were looking at time at Hunt Correctional, three years per, but if I was lucky, they’d run the charges consecutive, which means three years total.

I signed a confession and was out on bail by the end of the week. My boy went to the service; I went to court.

To be continued”¦

Happy Friday!

About Johnny Valentine

Johnny Valentine is striving to be the Hunter S. Thompson of his generation. Take a walk on the wild side with him.

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