BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 117
what the hell was wrong. At first, he just bounced and whined. A plaintive appeal for
anyone who loved him to put him to sleep. Blow his brains out with a handgun. No
matter what, just kill me. That was the message.
Finally, he regained enough control to speak. Pointing at his crotch, yet still
jumping and bouncing, “T” said, “I sprayed my balls with Raid!” It got the biggest laugh
of the night. Al finally loaned “T” his car, (we‟d arrived in mine). Al made him put a
towel on the seat before driving to the hospital less than half a mile away.
I waited until he got back, mostly from a sense of duty. After all, who else would
watch our beer and keep those assholes from drinking it while “T” was gone?
Sometime later, while I was “touring” down south as a semi-pro boxer and pool
hustler, “T” had a conflict with law enforcement. They accused him of selling drugs to
minors. Everyone argued about it in court. There were, as I heard it, a dozen people
who didn‟t believe “T‟s” story. Twelve of his peers. He made a deal with the State of
Michigan. They gave him free room and board for a few years to settle it. By the time he
was released, we‟d had gone in different directions.
“T” relocated to Las Vegas, after a couple years of professional boxing in
California. He drove taxi for a while, then became another kind of dealer. This time at a
craps table, sometimes a roulette wheel. The State of Nevada had no objection to that
kind of dealing. All was well for “T”.
A few years later he discovered a non-life threatening medical problem and
relinquished his driver‟s license. He was no longer dependent on driving a cab to live, so
he‟s probably still working the casinos. I learned he was dealing in Vegas and got in
touch before I came out. I was with a junket that included a woman I‟d broken up with a
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