Late 2014 I was in pickle. The whole summer I spent an hour away from home with a friend. By home, I mean where my family's located. My psychological status was horrible. My meds also a tad off. A few months go by, and I'm about to be stuck into moving two hours away from home with my buddy's family. Literally in BFE.
It was in result of a mental game I didn't want to play anymore. Because at this point if I don't quit, I lose. My buddy and I already made it to BFE. Therefore I was still playing the damn game.
Annnnnnnnnd, the mania broke loose.
While in a waiting room with my friend and his mom I got impatient, and requested to wait in the car. Just chill and have a cigarette (or five). His mom gave the okay. However, I had to get the key from the valet outside. The valet dude told me he needs to see ID of the person who owns the car before releasing anything.
All I remember from then on is storming through the sliding doors to get her to show ID. Next thing I recall I'm furious waiting in the car. Smoking cigarettes. Screaming at this poor valet dude....screaming horrible insults. I dont even know this dude. Which made the insults unlimited. Got to the point police came to the car asking me to stop.
A maniac doesn't stop. A maniac doesn't have control. Homeboy eventually had to switch out shifts with a different worker.
*The next memory I can recall is at my friends residence, while police came and escorted me to an ER. I was then admitted to a psych ward (near home luckily). Nothing valet related.*
I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to the poor valet dude. You were chillin, nothing serious to do besides collect keys. Making dough for the week. Got cut short on the dough because you had to leave early. All because a crazy little red head had to throw the mania at somebody. Even though I blacked out throughout the night, I'm pretty sure you didn't even do shit...besides need an ID of the car owner.