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The Unluckiest Guy I Ever Met

by Clifford A. Schaffer

This is a true story. The facts have not been embellished. In fact, I left a lot of stuff out.

And Now, The Lawyer

Art's lawyer advised him that, in view of all the previous convictions, and a long string of nuisance violations (which should have been self-evident police harassment), this time Art was destined to do some serious time in prison unless some sort of miracle happened. Art's lawyer suggested that the only way out was for Art to turn someone else in - turn snitch.

"Snitches get killed." Art said. "What else can I do?"

"Maybe they would let you off if you had a job and could show that you were trying to be an honest citizen," his lawyer suggested.

Art promptly went out and got an absolutely grinding job several miles from home. It was a massive struggle just to keep up with the job, but he did it. Then he went back to his lawyer.

"No dice," his lawyer told him. "You are going to have to do something else."

"Like what?" Art asked.

"You could always snitch someone off," his lawyer suggested.

"Snitches get killed," Art said. "I don't want to get killed. What else can I do?"

"Hmmm," his lawyer said, "maybe you should get married to show them that you are trying to settle down."

Art looked up an old high school girlfriend, explained the situation to her and she agreed to get married. She had a fairly decent job and they were able to move into a good apartment on her income. After the wedding, he went back to his lawyer.

"Still not cutting it," his lawyer told him. "You are going to have to do something else."

"Like what?" Art asked.

"You could always snitch someone off," his lawyer suggested.

"Snitches get killed," Art said. "I don't want to get killed. What else can I do?"

His lawyer thought it over again. "Maybe if you had a baby on the way. Babies always get sympathy."

Art promptly went out and got his bride pregnant. When she was beginning to show, he went back to his lawyer.

"Closer. I had them going for a while with the baby story, but it is still not enough," his lawyer clucked. "You're going to have to do something more."

"Like what?" Art asked.

"You could always snitch someone off," his lawyer suggested.

"Snitches get killed," Art said. "I don't want to get killed. What else can I do?"

His lawyer thought and thought again and finally said, "They might cut you some slack if you were a heroin addict and claimed that what you were out of control because of your addiction and what you really need is rehabilitation. If you did that, I might be able to get you out with a year or so in a hospital."

Art had never taken heroin in his life, but it was hard to turn down any opportunity to avoid a long stretch in prison. He developed a good-sized heroin habit, went through a couple of really good withdrawal episodes in front of doctors who could testify that he really was addicted, and then went back to his lawyer.

"Oh, that really ticked them off," his lawyer said. "Here you are a working man with a family on the way and now you turn up with a heroin habit.  They thought that was pretty irresponsible."

"But you told me to do it," Art said.

"We can't stop to worry about that now," said his lawyer. "You are going to have to do something else."

"Like what?" Art asked.

"You could always snitch someone off," his lawyer suggested.

"Snitches get killed," Art said. "I don't want to get killed. What else can I do?"

By that time, both Art and his lawyer had run out of ideas. Art was now working, married with a baby on the way, and a pretty good heroin habit, all on the advice of his lawyer. Art became resigned to the fact that, in order to avoid spending the rest of his life in jail, he was going to have to snitch someone off.

The sheriffs really enjoyed Art's company as a snitch. They rounded up several people before the word got out about Art and it wasn't long before there were rumors floating the streets that Art would not be long for this world if he hung around Sacramento.

But, it seemed to work. For the first time since he had been busted for the thirty pounds of pot which wasn't his, it began to look like they were going to let him off the hook - until the next time, at least.

Then, a week before his case was due to come its final resolution, his lawyer was busted for income tax evasion and had to drop out of the case. Art got a public defender who knew nothing about the case and believed the sheriff's deputies when they gleefully told him that there had been no deal with Art at all. Art went to prison, full sentence for the full thirty pounds, a multiple felony offender besides, and remains there today. He spends most of his time alone in protective custody because of the death threats against him.

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