Things are a bit hazy...

I felt warm, like I was wrapped in gauze.  It felt so good to just have stopped moving, to just lay there.  It was one of those rare, peaceful moments that every alcoholic seeks but rarely finds.  But, around me things were happening.  A phone was pushed at me.  'It's Glenn.  He wants to talk to you.'  I fumbled with the phone and put in up to my ear.  'What?'

'Listen to me, just don't talk.  The police are going to be coming over to the house.'  I immediately sat up.  'What are you talking about?  You said...' 'Just shut up and listen,' he said.  'I told them what's going on.  But you need to do your part or you will end up back in jail.  When the police get there, all I want you to say to them is that you need help.  Got that?  I. Need. Help.  If you would have done that yesterday, you wouldn't have been PC'ed.  Trust me.  Just tell them that you need help, and don't say anything else.  They will get you to a hospital.  If you give them a hard time or try to take off, I'm telling you, you will be right back in jail. Ya got it?'  I got it. I laid back down on that seat, thinking, 'I need help', shut my eyes and tried to melt into the fabric.

The next thing I remember, my girlfriend's sister was shaking me, saying, "OK, they're here.  Remember, tell them you need help.' I slowly sat up, just in time to see the door of a police cruiser open and a couple of cops step out.  They spoke briefly with her, then came up to the open back door of the car I was in.  'Mr. Jackson?' one asked.  I looked at him, saying, 'I need help.'  The one cop looked at the other, then looked back at me.  'You sure do.  And if you would have told us that last night instead of being such an asshole, we would have given it to you..'