Rob: Yeah. And oh, I have another one. Fifteen years before that, I was 28. I was goin’ out with this girl, Miss Teen Texas. I didn’t know she was hooked on heroin. She was snorting it. I was in love with her. She moves into my place. I come home one night, and the bathroom door’s locked. I’m like, “Patricia, I’m home,” and I don’t hear her.
     “Patricia!” ––and the door’s locked, so I kicked in the door, and she’s lying there. She’s slit her wrists. So I said, “I’m calling the police.” 911 and all. She gets up. There’s blood all over. She had hacked herself up with a double edge.
     She grabs me: “Don’t call the police.” There’s blood all over the phone, and all over me.
     I said, “You’re alive.” We started to make out, and I said, “Look, I’m getting an ambulance.”
     She said, “You’re not.”
     And I pushed her away and said, “I’m calling the ambulance.”
     That’s the first time I’d experienced THAT kind of a thing, I didn’t know to not call an ambulance or whatever.
     The cops show up ‘cause I said she was trying to kill herself. I said, “She’s in there.” The EMT had already been there and said, “She just needs to have her wrists taped. We’re gonna take her to the emergency room.”
     I go in with the cops. The cops look at her – I mean she was gorgeous: weird, kind of Farrah Fawcett – weak frail, sad eyes – real Blondie. They’re looking, and the cop says, “Wait.”
     I say, “Alright.” They look at me and the cop handcuffs me. “What am I doing?”
     He goes, “Shut up and wait.”
     “Am I being arrested?”
     “Just shut up.”
     Now they all go in the bedroom and I’m handcuffed. I go over to the door and listen. I push the door open and look in. They’re looking at her modeling portfolio, and they’re sitting by her. “So how long you been into modeling? You’re a pretty girl. What’re you doing with a piece of shit like him.”
     And I’m sitting there like that, hearing all of this. She’s like, “I love him. He’s not what you – This had nothing to do with him. I’d been smoking heroin and…”
     They go, “No, that guy’s a loser. We see guys like him all the time.”
     One of ‘em was like – and I’m hearing all this – “When you get better, we’ll all go out. We’ll hit the bars. We’ll do all this stuff.”
     And I kick the door open, I’m like, “What the hell’s this? You guys gonna gang bang my fucking girlfriend?”
     They come out. They unhook me. “You’re not arrested, but keep your mouth shut.”
     The ambulance takes her, I’m supposed to get in, but they won’t let me get in. They won’t let me ride in their car; I have to take a cab to the hospital. The hospital makes me wait in the waiting room for like an hour. I finally sneak over to the door where you can see through – it’s only a hallway. What do I fucking see? She’s sitting on a cop’s lap in the gown that has no butt, you know what I mean? With his hat on, and he’s pecking her on the cheek, and he’s bouncing her! She had been raped a lot and incested. She thought sex was – was a language. “Hello, how are you? You can bite my neck, whatever.”
     I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t fucking believe it. A few weeks later, we’re back together. I have a place, the whole thing. We’re walking down the street. We’re sick of being broke. I had been mugging people. Whatever, she’s the one who taught me how to mug people. I’ll tell you that one another day. Anyway, we’re walking down the street, she grabs a lady’s purse and runs for it.
     I didn’t realize she was gonna do it. Everybody starts running after her, and I don’t even know what to do. Do I get the purse? All these guys are running after her, do I stop them? I’d started carrying a switchblade because we used to do this thing where she’d walk outta the bar with a guy, and I’d grab her and I’d put the blade up to her. Anyway, I get the switchblade and I stop and I say, “Everybody stop!”
     Everybody’s looking at me and I’m like, ‘Now I’m in trouble’. Instead of just running, she goes, “C’mon Rob, let’s run.”
     I said, “Give the fucking purse back.” I didn’t know. This was all new to me.
     She’s like, “What?” She throws the purse back. We start running. This guy pushes her. She slams against a window. The window breaks, cracks. She’s got blood coming down, alright? I grabbed her and say, “Everybody, the lady got her fucking purse back! Just go away.” And people are just kind of slow motion in the moment. We’re running and there’s a taxi. He’s just sitting there and we get in.
     Long, long story short – I take her to get her ear stitched. She was in there an awful long time, alone with one doctor. We get home. She gets a lotta calls from that day on, and I’m like, “Who keeps calling?”
     I follow her one day. She went on a date with the doctor. Then she finally confessed the doctor had been calling her, asking her out for dinner.