Horseshoes and Hand Grenades by John Corabi & Paul Miles

Author:John Corabi & Paul Miles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-13T19:12:08+00:00

I took another day or two to recover from the debauched weekend in Dallas, and a week or so later I got sent to Florida for a few days to do a guest spot on a local morning radio show in the Tampa Bay area.

My return flight connected at Dallas Fort Worth airport, so I decided to turn it into a layover so I could hang out with Lori and Jennifer again, then fly the last leg home to LA the next day.

The girls picked me up from the airport, and we went back to their home, where I dropped my bag since I was going to stay the night. They had another couple come over—a young, local singer named Dave Williams (who was also a friend of Dimebag) and his girlfriend, Cat. The five of us then went out for a steak dinner, and I enjoyed a glass of wine with my meal.

Soon after midnight we headed to The Basement again. The club’s owner remembered me from a couple of weeks earlier and was very hospitable. I wasn’t even through my first cocktail there when he called last drinks and kicked everybody out of the club so we could stay and hang out with him.

As the six of us sat there drinking, a couple of cops soon came in and raided the place. Lori and Dave didn’t have their licenses on them, and Jennifer’s was expired. Dave’s girlfriend was only twenty, but for some reason the cops zeroed-in on me and arrested me. None of us knew what the fuck was going on, but I didn’t want to resist, so I asked them what was happening as they led me to their police car.

At first, they wouldn’t tell me anything, but then they said I was under arrest for public intoxication. It was total bullshit since I had not even had three drinks all night. I went fucking ballistic and insisted they take me to the hospital right fucking now for a blood test to prove that I was not intoxicated.

They took me to the police station instead of the hospital, where they put me in a cell and that’s where I stayed for the rest of the night, and ALL of the following day. It was only when a different cop came and gave me a frozen burrito for dinner, he looked at me and said, “You look familiar.”

I said, “Yeah, well, I don’t know where you’ve seen me before. I’m the singer in a band called Mötley Crüe though, so maybe something to do with that.”

“What are you doing in here then?” he asked.

“I have no idea. I was told I was arrested for public intoxication but I absolutely was not. I had not even had three drinks all night,” I explained.

Moments later, the cops let me out and told me I was free to go, as they apologized and said they weren’t sure what had happened.

I was pissed. “You motherfuckers! I missed my flight this morning back to Los Angeles.

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