25 CAMERON CAITIFF
October 25
With a few more hours of my shift to go, I sat in my car, writing my report on yet another domestic disturbance call to Jolene Jones’s house. Marge said a neighbor heard yelling and the sound of glass breaking, but when I got there, the visit went exactly as it always did. The sight of me irritated Jolene, and she insisted nothing was wrong while Gary, drunk and stinking to high hell, stumbled to the door to explain how his shitty neighbors enjoyed wasting my time. I hated these two people more than anyone in Monroe. I felt sorry for the kids, though. It wasn’t their fault their parents were losers.
The sun was getting low, and having accomplished nothing but drive around all day, I took my dinner break at “the bottle”. The signage outside said “Bar on the
