Ray won\u2019t have the radio on in the car when we are working, except for after the 12 o\u2019clock news when the advertisements are done and they play an extended set of songs. \u201cForty-Five minutes of unstoppable rock\u201d they call it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hate the radio these days\u201d he told me, our first day on the job together. \u201cNothing but advertisements for auto insurance, credit counseling services, trustees in bankruptcy, and vocational training schools. The four horseman of the econo-pocalypse, fifteen to thirty seconds each, and as much as two minutes combined. No one needs that. And you know why they do it? Why advertisers buy radio time? It\u2019s because people lost their homes and live in their cars. They\u2019re trapped. Me? I just want to hear some music. I want to think about good times.\u201d He laughed when he said it.<\/p>\n
There is a lot of truth in what Ray said about radio. Such are the times we live in.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
We drive and we talk.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019s things with Sheila this fine California day?\u201d he asks me.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot all that good.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat bad?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wants out. Or more accurately: She wants me out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re shittin\u2019 me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish. I mean, she won\u2019t say \u2018It\u2019s over, pack up your shit and get out\u2019, but she says things like \u2018Something has to change\u2019 and \u2018We can\u2019t live like this for much longer\u2019 and stuff like that. Truthfully: I think she just wants me to pull the trigger.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what are you going to do?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. I was thinking about it, and I\u2019m going to suggest couples counseling. Maybe her benefits will pay for it. She has good benefits.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sheila and I met when I was a title insurance rep. She worked in City Hall, in Records and Permits. I was pulling in seven-thousand per month, standing in line in front of her with all the other reps once or twice a day. I felt good all the time. I wore my embroidered shirts untucked, and my jeans long, the hem down to the heel of my ostrich boots.\u00a0 I\u2019d just throw the jeans out when the hems frayed and get some more. I wore aviator sunglasses inside. I wore them inside bars, inside restaurants, and inside the hallowed halls of the Department of Records and Permits. Never took off the shades. I thought it would be like this forever \u2013 I\u2019d fly in a gentle upward trajectory to a permanently sunny apex. People wanted to buy, sellers could be found, and lenders made it rain. It was an auction. I had just bought a $340,000 condominium. Brand-New. No one else had ever lived in it. Half the size of my parents\u2019 house and more than three times what they had paid. This was six months before Lehman Brothers was cremated. Six months after that and the smoke of their burning still hung in the sky over all of us along with that of a whole lot of other financial institutions, and I sold my condo for $175,000 and moved in with Sheila. I am still paying on a condo I no longer own. \u00a0I am in arrears on that. It has been tough.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you\u2019re hanging on for her benefits? While she hates you a little bit more every day?\u201d Ray said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, no, it\u2019s not like that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, asking her to ask her benefits to pay for counseling ain\u2019t exactly the Cowboy Way neither.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what? Call it what you will Ray, I\u2019m just trying to make things work. Ain\u2019t nothing wrong with that.\u201d When I am around Ray, I start to talk like him; I use his diction, his phrasing.<\/p>\n
\u201cAin\u2019t nothing wrong with that – except that everything is wrong with that.\u201d He said.<\/p>\n
I snort.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeriously\u201d he says. \u201cYou don\u2019t understand women.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shake my head. \u201cAnd you do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I do. Here\u2019s the deal. You go to a woman and say you want counseling, you want to make things work, you\u2019re so sorry about this or feel bad about that or you will try and do better \u2013 whatever. They think you are weak. They can\u2019t abide weak.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019s trying everything to make a go of it weak? Tell me that, Cowboy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt just is. Look \u2013 women. They get their opinions from other women. Imagine a secret boardroom, and there is a tote board. Maybe it\u2019s one of those fancy whiteboards like what we have now, or maybe it\u2019s just a blackboard and chalk like in days gone by. It don\u2019t matter. There is Sheila and all the women she knows. Friends, enemies, in-betweens \u2013 her goddamn mother too – all together now. They have a consensus. On that tote board they have two columns: One is \u2018Names\u2019 and under it are the names of all of their men, and the other column is called \u2018Weakness\u2019. Under \u2018Weakness\u2019 and beside each name is a description. \u2018He cried\u2019, is one or \u2018He begged for forgiveness\u2019 is another, or hey: \u2018He said he\u2019d never go to the strip club again.\u2019 All of those things and more. But right there at the top is \u2018Counseling\u2019 only they don\u2019t call it \u2018Counseling\u2019 they call it \u2018He wants me to pay for someone to do his crying, his begging and his apologizing for him.\u2019 They adjust the board each meeting and laugh and laugh – and then they go home and turn the heat up. They want to see if you can finally grow a pair and get the fuck out. See if you can at least manage some pretension of dignity. Internally she\u2019s already trained herself not to miss you anyways. And she ain\u2019t no different than any of the rest of \u2018em.\u201d<\/p>\n
I roll my eyes. \u201cOK Ray. What\u2019s your suggestion?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBreak up with her first. Pull the goddamn trigger already. You should have done it six months ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I don\u2019t want to.\u201d<\/p>\n
Now Ray\u2019s shaking his head at me. \u201cThat doesn\u2019t matter. Listen to yourself, man. Listen. You have already told me she\u2019s talking like it\u2019s over. So you gotta be the one to say it. The trick is to do it right, to get off of the top of their board. You gotta do it and let her know that it\u2019s her fault.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
I actually look at him. I run a yellow light that turns red halfway through. I hope they don\u2019t have a camera on this one. I can\u2019t fucking afford that. In that split-second, in that intersection under a red light, I realize why Sheila is tired of me. Because I cannot risk running a red.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell her you are breaking up with her because she has gained weight. She\u2019s letting herself go.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stop at the next red and look at him. Ray won\u2019t look at me. I look at him until the car behind honks and I look up to a green light and start moving again.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes\u201d Ray says. \u201cWeight. Hit her right where she lives. Women worry about that shit. She might roll her eyes, talk all sorts of crap but if you tell her she\u2019s letting herself go, looking a little dowdy \u2013 like someone\u2019s babushka-wearing grandma \u2013 and you can\u2019t be with her anymore – she\u2019ll be in the bathroom and on the scale the moment you are gone. She\u2019ll be crying in the mirror. You\u2019ll be off the board. \u2018Dumped me because I got fat\u2019 is the very last position on the board. Rock bottom. Makes her<\/em> look bad, not you<\/em>. Some of her friends will sympathize, some will gloat \u2013 her goddamn mother will say something unhelpful \u2013 but the point is this: You walk away with some pride.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWeight.\u201d I say.<\/p>\n \u201cYep. Weight.\u00a0 Besides, it\u2019s probably true. We all gain weight as we age. How long have you known her? If she isn\u2019t up ten or fifteen from when you met, I\u2019ll pay your red-light ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n It\u2019s quiet now. No radio. I have a lot to think about.<\/p>\n \u201cHey!\u201d Ray says. \u201cRanchero Drive. Turn here and let\u2019s go take Mr. Echeverria\u2019s house from him. After all, that\u2019s why they pay us.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n We are in the \u2018bad news\u2019 business, or, more correctly, the \u2018more bad news\u2019 business. We are the black heart of the dark cloud. We are the worst day a person has after they think they have already had their worst day. In the State of California the last stage of the foreclosure process is the \u201cNotice to Leave After the House is Sold.\u201d You miss a mortgage payment, then another and then it\u2019s three mortgage payments and you give up, quit, and the lender starts the process. The house is either sold and the new owners want in, or the bank is stuck with it \u2013 which is the last thing they want \u2013 and they have to get you out. Anyways, what happens is that the new owner must give the former homeowner something called a \u201cThree-Day Notice to Quit (Leave)\u201d and file an \u201cUnlawful Detainer\u201d lawsuit to evict.<\/p>\n That\u2019s when Ray and I come.<\/p>\n We come in a rental car, white or black or silver, and we bring with us the \u201cNotice to Quit\u201d and the lawsuit. Sometimes the houses are empty, the owner gone with the foreclosure notice. They slink away to another place to forget this place and these times, which is what I would do, but sometimes they are still there. Squatting I guess, because it must still feel like home. Mostly they just don\u2019t know where they are going to go. We deliver the bad news and we hope they take it well. We work in a pair because another guy at another firm \u2013 he got shot. Right on the doorstep.\u00a0 It made the news. One man was led away in handcuffs; another covered in a sheet and wheeled away on a gurney. No one wants to be the guy on the gurney. You can talk shit about \u201cForeclosure Mills\u201d all you want but someone has to do it and the one I work for is not as bad as some others. They pay two of us, most places just send one. One person, in his or her own car, is pretty easy to fuck with. We are two of us, have a rental and haven\u2019t been shot yet. If life isn\u2019t good, it\u2019s less bad than it could be.<\/p>\n Hector Echeverria\u2019s house on Ranchero may or may not have Hector Echeverria, but he was getting his three days. We park across the street and look around. There aren\u2019t many people out. Some of the other houses on the street have the windows boarded over. They were the Echeverrias before our Echeverria. Always Ray knocks on the door and I hand over the documents. I keep the Affidavit of Service in the car. We\u2019ll fill that out once we are back in the car. No one answers the knock. I put the papers in an envelope and stuff them in between the door and the doorframe. I\u2019ve gotten good at it. We\u2019re walking back to the car when the garage door opens and there, behind us, with two suitcases and a lamp of the Virgin Mary holding an empty picture frame, is Mr. Echeverria.<\/p>\n \u201cCan I help you\u201d he says.<\/p>\n Ray answered, \u201cWell, yes. Are you Hector Echeverria?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u201d he says.<\/p>\n \u201dAllow me to introduce myself. I am Ray Bevans and this is my associate \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Echeverria waved him off.<\/p>\n \u201cI know who you are. You are here for the house. It\u2019s ok. It\u2019s yours. I\u2019m leaving now. I don\u2019t want any trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, we need to give you the documents. Can we at least do that?<\/p>\n Echeverria shrugged. \u201cI guess so. It makes no difference.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you sir\u201d Ray said. \u201cYou are right, it doesn\u2019t make much difference, but it\u2019s always best to do things by the book as much as possible.\u201d<\/p>\n Echeverria set the lamp down and I handed him the \u201cNotice to Quit\u201d and the eviction suit. He tucked it under one arm and picked up the lamp and tucked it under the other then picked up his two suitcases and walked it out to the curb. He stopped then and turned around and took out the garage remote and closed the garage door.<\/p>\n \u201cHere\u201d he said to Ray \u2018\u201dTake the opener. The new owners will need it. I was going to leave it in the mailbox,\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, sir\u201d Ray said.\u00a0 He took the opener.<\/p>\n Echeverria picked up his bags, his lamp and our papers and began to walk down the street.<\/p>\n I was relieved. No fuss, no muss, no gun, no gurney. I like it best when the houses are empty but I\u2019ve had people get pretty heated. I understand but hey \u2013 they have to understand too:\u00a0 We either serve \u2018em or join \u2018em. The line is razor thin.<\/p>\n Echeverria, not moving real fast, got about one house away and Ray called out to him. \u201cMr. Echeverria. Do you need anything?\u201d<\/p>\n Echeverria stopped for a moment but didn\u2019t turn around. He started moving again, but even slower.<\/p>\n \u201cMr.\u00a0 Echeverria. Can we give you a ride at least?\u201d<\/p>\n I looked at Ray but he wasn\u2019t looking at me. Jesus, Ray, don\u2019t do this. What for? Echeverria stopped, but did not turn around.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Echeverria. We can give you a ride. This other stuff? It\u2019s just our job. If you need a ride you need a ride. Let us give you a ride. Where are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n Echeverria stopped and turned around. He looked long and hard \u2013 at Ray \u2013 not at me. \u201cThe bus station\u201d he said. \u201cJust the bus station. Can you do that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHell yes\u201d Ray said, \u201cThat\u2019s 8 miles away. Hell of a walk. Way too far on a hot day.\u00a0 Let us give you a ride.\u201d<\/p>\n He motioned me to get the car and he went to help Echeverria with his bags. We got in the car, with me driving, Ray riding shotgun, and Echeverria in the back. Ray and Echeverria had put all of Echeverria\u2019s belongings in the back except for the Virgin Mary Lamp. Echeverria carried her with him and held her on his lap, Mary in white and blue, with her sacred heart in red and gold, and her hands framing the empty picture frame.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s that bus taking you, Buddy?\u201d Ray asked, after we had begun to move.<\/p>\n \u201cIndio\u201d Echeverria said. \u201cIndio. I have a cousin there. He\u2019ll put me up until I can find a way back to Nicaragua.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s cool. Is that where you are from?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOriginally, Yes\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have family?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy wife and her mother, her sisters.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell hey, something to look forward to, right?\u2019<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u201d<\/p>\n Echeverria looked straight ahead the whole time, neither at Ray nor at me. I kept looking back at the lamp using the rear-view mirror. I wonder where he found that. Maybe it came with him from Nicaragua.<\/p>\n \u201cWhose picture was in the lamp?\u201d I asked. \u201cYour wife?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo\u201d Echeverria said, \u201cMy Son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs he in Nicaragua with your wife?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, he died.\u201d<\/p>\n Ray and I both said \u201cI\u2019m sorry for your loss,\u201d at the same time.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you.\u201d Echeverria said.<\/p>\n We got to the bus station and got out. \u201cYou need anything else?\u201d Ray asked.<\/p>\n \u201cNo thanks. You have done enough. You have been very kind\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSeriously, you need anything, you just say.\u201d<\/p>\n Echeverria picked up his bags and went into the terminal without looking back.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was all that about?\u201d I asked Ray when we got back in the car.<\/p>\n He turned on the radio and pointed at the clock: 12:20 pm.<\/p>\n \u201cForty-Five Minutes of Unstoppable Rock. Time to turn up the radio.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n We did two more that afternoon. Fortunately, no one was at either house. I wedged the \u201cNotice to Quit\u201d and the eviction suit in the seams where the doors met the door frames and they held tight. It\u2019s not as easy as it sounds. Some of these places in these cookie-cutter subdivisions were put up fast and cheap and there is often too much space between the door and frame and they will not hold the documents tight, so they fall to the ground and get rained on, or kicked around and messed up. No one likes that. It looks unprofessional. I try to look at the bright side and tell myself that the carpenter who installed\/framed the doors is probably in foreclosure himself, or maybe even dead or in jail. Unemployed, at the very least.<\/p>\n It\u2019s the little things.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s hit the strip club\u201d Ray said to me as we drove back. We were coming into peak commute time and he had turned the radio off a while ago.<\/p>\n \u201cNo thanks\u2019 I say.<\/p>\n \u201cC\u2019mon, you need it more than I do and my girlfriend is there. My girlfriend who actually likes me.\u201d<\/p>\n I grimace. \u201cNo\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s your call\u201d he says and laughs.<\/p>\n \u201cSo who is your girlfriend now?\u201d I ask. I can\u2019t resist.<\/p>\n \u201cRamona Raxx. That\u2019s \u2018*Raxx*\u2019 with two x-es.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSeriously.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s her real name?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, Ramona for sure. She swears it\u2019s Ramona. She\u2019s holding out on her real last name. She told me she wanted Roxx (with two x-es\u201d), but it was taken.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh it would be. That\u2019s a good one. But tell me this Cowboy: What makes her your girlfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s sweet on me. I can tell. I know I know. You think I\u2019m bullshitting. But she\u2019s sweet on me and it\u2019s kind of charming.\u201d<\/p>\n I just look at him.<\/p>\n \u201cShe showed me her gunshot wound.\u201d<\/p>\n I laugh a bit too long at that. \u201cSo that\u2019s what they are calling it now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, no, no. She has an actual gunshot wound. I know. She showed me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re kidding.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I am not. You know, Monday I went in there. It\u2019s always slow. I don\u2019t sit up front on pervert row, I like to sit back, have a beverage, and check out the stable. She comes out, pretty little thing, real black hair and real white skin. And freckles. Those freckles are cute. All men like freckles. Don\u2019t say you don\u2019t. Anyways, she\u2019s up grinding it for the lost souls on pervert row and I can see this big gauze bandage above her bikini line and kind of off to one side. I\u2019m intrigued. Admit it \u2013 you would be too. So I tell the server to send her over to my booth for a little table dance when she\u2019s done up there on the stage. She comes on over. She grinds. She\u2019s whiter up close, her hair blacker, and in the dead center of that bandage is a little red. \u2018Jesus, Honey, you\u2019re bleeding\u2019 I said. \u2018A little\u2019, she said. \u2018What happened, Baby?\u2019 I asked her. All she would say was that \u2018Some shit happened.\u2019 You know how it is. House party. Everybody high. Some guys were arguing and then shit got real, real fast and all of a sudden she was shot. It went through her side, in and out, like a hole-punch on a folded piece of paper. Just the right angle. Someone drove her to a hospital and dropped her off and she went in and told them she had no insurance but would they please help and they did.<\/p>\n I kept her there for two more dances. During the second one, she peeled back the gauze and showed me the stitches. A little clear fluid was leaking out of her. She said it was a combination of plasma and the antibiotic. They had warned her. She was ok. She\u2019s a toughie, let me tell you. After that we just sat and talked. She told me she was planning on leaving the Central Valley and going out to the Bakken.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe Bakken?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. The Bakken Shale Formation. Montana, South Dakota, Wyoming. Goddamn near all of those places and then some. The next oil boom. She told me some other girls were dancing out there and make a grand on a week night and more on the weekends. Some of those oil riggers haven\u2019t seen a woman in three months and they\u2019ll throw a whole paycheck\u2019s worth of cash money up there for just a kind word and the opportunity to stare at some pretty pink areola.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt does sound good.\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know, after that she thanked me. She told me that she\u2019d been shot on a Thursday and missed the weekend and all the good tips. Coming in Monday \u2013 and she had to beg the club to let her dance on Monday \u2013 She expected nothing. She told me my money was the difference between her making rent or couch surfing until she could find another situation. Times are tight for everyone. Even strippers. She told me to come on back and see her tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou sure she\u2019s not just working you?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cNope. I\u2019m not sure. We\u2019ll see if she gives me her real last name. If she does \u2013 we\u2019ll know. But I have a good feeling. I\u2019ve always been lucky, in small ways. Just like my daddy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow so?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, my dad is from South Dakota. Born there and died there. He cowboyed for real. Met my mom at a rodeo in Bakersfield. True story. That\u2019s where I was born. But California \u2013 and my momma \u2013 wasn\u2019t for him. He moved back out to South Dakota before I could even remember him. He was a cowboy there, a ranch hand. He liked it. Drove an old pick up and fished in his spare time. Catch and release. Never did hunt. \u2018Live and let live\u2019, he always told me. He passed on a couple of years ago. Died while fishing. Must have had a heart attack or something. They found him just sitting there by a river. The current had pulled away his line and rod and they never did find it. It was the most expensive thing he owned and the last thing he did was give it to the river. It makes me feel good to think of it. My cousin, Mike, called me to tell me and I went on out to the funeral. I told my mom about it and she shrugged her shoulders and told me that my daddy was the luckiest man she ever knew. He wasn\u2019t rich lucky, or famous lucky, or even good-at-something lucky. He just did what he wanted to do and lived easy. No one ever bothered him, or took that ease from him. That\u2019s lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAmen to that,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n \u201cAnyways, at the funeral, Cousin Mike told me he already had a couple of wells on his land and was looking to form an oilfield services company. He did it and now they are booming. I talk to him every so often and he always says, \u201cCome on out, we could use you\u201d.\u00a0 So, tonight, if Ramona gives me her real last name, I\u2019ll tell her about Mike and my Dad, and tell her that I too, am going out to the Bakken. I\u2019m going to shake off the Central Valley like an old memory and let it fade. This is going to be a place I used to be and that\u2019s all. If Ramona is in, she\u2019s in, and that would be great. My mom is in Fresno now, I\u2019ll come back for Christmas and that\u2019s it.<\/p>\n \u201cSounds like a plan,\u201d I say. \u201cThey have any decent radio out there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh yeah\u201d he says. \u201cThe best. No depressing commercials. Not much in the way of advertising at all. Everyone does the same thing out there. They don\u2019t need to advertise. I noticed that when I was out for my dad\u2019s funeral. Forty-five Minutes of Unstoppable Rock four times per day.<\/p>\n \u201cWe should all be so lucky,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s the Bakken,\u201d he says. \u201cOnce I get established, I\u2019m going to call you up. We could use a guy like you. I am sure of it. Just let me get out there and get going. Hell, I\u2019ll even look for Echeverria in Nicaragua. We could use him too. He seemed alright. Not his fault that his kid died and that the market turned. Nothing he could do about it.\u201d<\/p>\n We park the rental on the lot and put the keys in the overnight return. We\u2019ll be back tomorrow. Back out to Stockton. To a house once owned by a man named Diaz. As for tonight I\u2019ll go back and pick up Sheila from work and see what she has to say. I\u2019ll let her talk and if I don\u2019t like it, I\u2019ll just not listen. If she doesn\u2019t want to talk that\u2019s okay too.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" “We come in a rental car, white or black or silver, and we bring with us the \u201cNotice to Quit\u201d and the lawsuit. Sometimes the houses are empty, the owner gone with the foreclosure notice. They slink away to another place to forget this place and these times<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":13391,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[1070,1075,2621,1073,1074,1071,1076,1072,1077,1069],"class_list":["post-13224","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-california","tag-cowboys","tag-fiction","tag-foreclosure","tag-real-estate","tag-rock-and-roll","tag-south-dakota","tag-strippers","tag-the-bakken-shale-formation","tag-the-great-recession","writer-steve-passey"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13224","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13224"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13224\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13392,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13224\/revisions\/13392"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/13391"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13224"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13224"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13224"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}