Behind Bars

Misadventures in the clink; press trip update; this, that, and the other

A throwback photo to spring 2020, when we’d just moved to Berlin from the States. I took this at a park we went to often, and the image of this fence still captures the trapped feeling of that time.

The first time I went to jail was the mid-aughts. This unfortunate incident kicked off when I showed up at the house of the CPA who was handling my taxes. My then-boyfriend (now husband), Chris, had used her for years and loved her unorthodox, boundary-pushing style: She chain smoked clove cigarettes, filled out forms IN PENCIL, and knew more about tax loopholes than any tech-bro billionaire. But when I pulled up to her place with my shoebox of receipts, a slew of government suits stood waiting for me and any other unsuspecting client with the misfortune to have an appointment that day. Apparently, she wasn’t just toeing the line; she was cooking the books for all kinds of small businesses, and whether we were involved or not, a few of us were hauled down to the Fulton County Jail for questioning as part of a sting.

It was pretty scary. But don’t take my word for it: Ask my good friend Matt, who — thank goodness! — happened to pick up on the second of my two allocated phone calls from custody that memorable day.

The second time I headed to the slammer was when Chris and I were driving to Florida from Atlanta for a visit with my folks. But as we passed through Andalusia County, Alabama, my heart dropped as sirens flashed. Unbeknownst to me, Chris had not paid a hefty ticket about six months prior, when we’d been nabbed in a speed trap, and next thing we knew we were hauled off to the clink by none other than the sheriff of Andalusia County herself, J.C. Clarke.

My mom happened to pick up the phone when the sheriff called to explain the predicament. Fortunately, we managed to work it all out, and more than 20 years later, somebody in my family still mentions good ol’ J.C. Clarke — what a character she was! — this time of year.

So, dear readers, spill it: Who else has been thrown in jail at some point in your life?

Quick update on press trips

I’ve been blown away by the number — and quality! — of press trip invites I’ve received lately. While I’m honored and grateful to be invited on any trip, my rough draft deadline for 100 Haunts is just a few short months away, so I’ve had to pass on almost all of them. But in the fall, I’ll be more available for travel to destinations of the non-spooky genre (that said, I’m ALWAYS interested in any place involving the supernatural or unexplained; local legends; and the like, so if yours has any of these, please reach out!).

I do my best to respond to all press trip invites, but I know some may fall into the crevasses of my long-suffering inbox. So feel free to nudge me if I haven’t yet replied to one (and please accept my apologies in advance). Thanks, as always, for your understanding and patience.

And That’s a Wrap!

One important note about those above mentioned run-ins with the law: I DID NOT go to jail in either (or ever, for that matter, knock on wood). But I sure had a helluva lot of fun convincing Matt and my mom that I did — two of my best April Fool’s Day jokes ever! (For you fellow pranksters, some tips: I used *67 when I called Matt so the number would show up as unknown, and when I called my mom as J.C. Clarke, with my best no-nonsense Southern accent, I used a pay phone at a rest stop in Andalusia County so the call would show up with that actual area code.)

By now, anyone who knows me well is onto my AFD tricks, so I’m always on the hunt for unsuspecting targets — even just one person fooled, and I’ve done my duty. Did I manage to get any of you? :)

Thanks, as always, for reading (no joke).

Blane

P.S.: While I’m always up for a good prank, here’s a gentle reminder why fake pregnancy announcements are always a bad idea (not that any of you lovely people would pull this kind of nonsense).