But my Lord was I ever wrong!
It became a HUGE problem, causing Katie to rant and rave about my being untrustworthy and a terrible excuse for a partner.
Pleading with her to please calm down and to please let it go and let’s enjoy a nice evening together, she simply would not stop screaming ~ continuing to spew vitriol and contempt.
Due to her uncontrolled and unpredictable personality disorder rage being a pattern in our 2.5 years together, I came to the point of no return and dialed 911, asking her to please think it over very, very carefully before I pushed “call.”
She then taunted by calling me a chicken shit boasting gleefully that I would not press the button.
Not afraid of the police, I pressed green!
Assuring the 911 operator that there was no physical violence that had taken place and that I just wanted to know my rights about the procedure that would entail to evict Katie, she said that someone would soon come on the line to talk to me.
After just a few minutes, the operator now confirmed that a sheriff would be arriving momentarily.
Having smoked ½ a joint on the way to my massage and the other ½ on the way back, I quickly hid the remaining evidence under the leaves of the orchid on my desk.
Stupidly, I left the empty baggie that I carried the reefer in my back pants pocket.
Opening all of the drapes even though it was night-time outside, I sat in my dining room awaiting the sheriff's arrival.
Within a few minutes, not just 1 ~ but 2 squad cars showed up.
Before their arrival, Katie walked out of our little ground floor apartment and called Ernie ~ her A.A. sponsor, who also appeared almost simultaneously.
As we all approached the 1st sheriff's vehicle, the cop asked who Albert Garcia was.
I confirmed that it was me and he asked what the problem was.