I'm not great at figuring out what I should avoid, but phrases like "I just got out of jail" still ring bells in my mind. Even freshly-woken, I made non-committal noises and dodged the conversation.
Work was work. There are still people who won't look me in the eye after the junket, and people I'd rather not face. My boss is up for the week from California; I came clean to him on Monday about drinking heavily on the junket and not being proud of my behavior. It was sincere, but will also play well in any subsequent disciplinary or legal actions that may arise. These are the instincts that I have.
Apparently I told Trouble I'd call later today. She called back twice, once while I was still at the office and once while having a drink with my boss.
I called her back.
It was... honest? Nice? I promised nothing, committed to nothing. I heard a story about how trying to get property back from SPD impound can take all day, and what that means in human terms. In a life with nothing, getting a backpack out of the evidence locker means everything.
A co-worker whom I trust enough to tell an earlier version of this story once asked me "Why would she tell you those things?" It bothered me because I didn't know enough to verbalize it. The short answer is that the rough trade always trust me because it's evident I'm not trying to sell them out. It's clear that I don't need to rip them off for whatever they might have, and at the same time I don't judge them. Work is work. Life is hard. They get by.
And so do I.
Fuck you, Valentine.