Discordia
Registered on
Nov-13-2005
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Message #292759 posted by Discordia (Info) May 10, 2008 04:32:58 ET
So I was riding home from Target, my second job, in my usual drunk/stoned state on my broken-down bike. Headlites appear from a car behind me. The car ends up beside me. I glance over. Cop car. Their lights go on. I pull over. I look around and see an obese women peering out her apartment window. A guy walking his dog has also stopped and is happily taking in the spectacle.
The first cop, a young but bald fellow, came out the passenger door. Asked me where I was coming from. I answered. He asked for ID, which I provided. They ran my name, I got ready to go, then the young cop asked if he could search my person and my bag. I dumbfoundedly asked why he’d want to do that. People have gotten tasered for less. He said, “Well, I don’t know you, you’re riding with no safety lights, and I can smell alcohol on your breath. Does that seem reasonable?”
I agreed resignedly that it did seem reasonable and said, “Okay…I know cops hate bullshit, so here’s what you will find…I’ve got approximately one gram of marijuana on me.” The cop was like, “Oh, if that’s all you’ve got, we don’t care…just let us search you.”
I was thinking it was a trick…I knew the mj was no big deal (one gram in the San Fran Bay Area? Spitting on the sidewalk is a greater offence) but riding a bike drunk is a DUI. I read about where a cop hit a paraplegic with a DUI cuz he was riding his wheelchair home drunk. I thought that could be trouble.
So one cop riffles thru my stuff while I lean against the cop car and make conversation with the other cop. He asks when do I get drunk and stoned. I say during my break. He totally laughs and says, “That’s awesome!” He asks what the stuff all over my hands is. I explain that it’s pipe dope (thread sealant) from my primary job. It doesn’t come off with soap.
I end up having to explain for some reason that I live with my parents. I hasten to explain that this is only because I am supporting my ex-wife who is too crazy to support herself. I’m working two jobs and have nothing but the ragged edge of desperation. The cops nod understandingly
Then the sheriff pulls up. Yes, the cops are so bored, the sheriff came out to have a look-see. The cops told him how I got drunk and stoned during my Target break and had shake on me and the sheriff laughed and said “I’d do the same thing if I worked at Target!”
Then that was it. They dispersed and let me wobble along my way. The obese woman went back to watching tv and the dog-walking man recommenced walking his dog.
And lately I’ve been trying to remind myself not to judge blindly. I’ve been reminding myself, there are good cops, good soldiers and – EVEN – good politicians
Peace be to all. Try to be a good whatever-you-are.
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