Jail-time lessons with DK
1. If you can, go to jail with a group of smart, funny gay people (and 1 straight guy who reminded me SO MUCH of Casey), because while your sitting in the wagon or handcuffed to a rail on a cement bench, you will be far more entertained and less likely to go bug-eyed with boredom. The Marriage Equality 7 had some serious bonding time, and the other girl that was there, Erica, is probably going to be a good friend of mine from now on. We spent twelve hours together and pretty much know each other's life stories, so that helps.
2. Also, go for a reason you really believe in. As in, have a crazy-fun sit-in before hand, where you sit down in the middle of a marriage license bureau and start chanting, singing protest songs, and talking to the people coming in and the clerks behind the counters. If possible, have 500 chanting protesters come from outside to file past the office cheering you on and waving rainbow flags. You will be surprised at how sympathetic a lot of people will be. I was amazed at how courteous and welcoming County Clerk Office staff was. Their office wasn't going to press charges (we ended up being charged by the Daley Center building, not the specific office) and said we could stay indefinitely. They chatted with us, gave us bottled water, and we met a hilarious security guard named Dianne who entertained us by calling her negligent boyfriend on speakerphone. It was at least four hours after the office closed that the CPD arrived and finally took us to the 18th and State St. station.
3. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, EAT A BOLOGNA SANDWICH OFFERED TO YOU BY A WARDEN. One look at those things, and I about hurled. They come in a giant sack, so who knows who has been roaming through there, and I swear to you there was congealed fat around the sandwich perimeter. Ew.
4. Being frisked is not nearly as bad as one might think.
5. Police officers will tell you very different rules about what you can and cannot keep on you inside. They will tell you to keep your cash. They will then yell at you for having your cash. They will tell you to put things in your "red bag" even if you never received one, and then yell at you for not putting things in said bag. In any case, DO NOT call them on these things. Just smile and nod and hope you get out of there soon.
6. Note that you may be screwed with when it comes to processing. In our case, we arrived at the station around 5 PM, and what should have been a four or five hour process took about ten hours. No other people were processed in this time. We were the only ones in custody, and yet it was after 2 AM before we got released. I think police are a little testy when it comes to people who choose to be arrested. As one officer put it as he cuffed us at the bureau, "This is such a fucking waste of my time." And though we didn't take it personally that we were being arrested, one officer told us that he took it personally that we were inconveniencing him by being arrested. Seemed a little odd, but oh well.
7. If have any history of mental health issues and are asked about them, lie. Lie like you've never lied in your life, because under no circumstances do you want... THE PADDED CELL. Oh my god, that was abysmal. Thank God I was exhausted enough to sleep at least an hour or so, because I spent over four hours in that little room and if I had been conscious the whole time I think I would have started clawing at the walls. "Padded" actually just means two inches of rock-hard foam that cover every inch of the room. No toilet like the other individual holding cells, just a literal shit-hole in the floor (think Slumdog Millionaire) and that's about it. You, four walls, a floor, and a shit-hole. It was freakishly cold in there, and so I'm amazed I managed to sleep on the floor at all. I was kind of afraid to touch anything, as I have no idea what has soaked into that padding over the years, but it was either lie down or go stir crazy, so the decision was sort of made for me. I also passed about twenty minutes using the zipper of my coat to carve "DANI = DK2.0" on one of the walls. I figured it was appropriate to do in the crazy cell.
8. Associate yourself with someone like Andy Thayer, who will come at 3 AM to pick you up from jail and drive you to your car bearing boxes of donuts and bagels for you to ravenously eat. People like Andy make the world go round.
9. There is no feeling of camaraderie quite like the feeling you get when the last person in your imprisoned party turns the corner and sees everyone waiting for him in the station lobby. It's distinct unto itself.
10. After all the singing, chanting, talking, bonding, waiting, laughing, pacing, sleeping, and reuniting, a little jailtime isn't so bad when you know you're going to be leaving within 24 hours and that you're there for a truly worthy cause. But it makes me appreciate how degrading and belittling going through the system must be for people for whom the process is indefinite. I didn't have to go over to County prison, but Andy has described it well enough for me to know that it's ten times worse than anything we went through. So I'm lucky, and I'm glad I was a part of this action. No regrets whatsoever.
2. Also, go for a reason you really believe in. As in, have a crazy-fun sit-in before hand, where you sit down in the middle of a marriage license bureau and start chanting, singing protest songs, and talking to the people coming in and the clerks behind the counters. If possible, have 500 chanting protesters come from outside to file past the office cheering you on and waving rainbow flags. You will be surprised at how sympathetic a lot of people will be. I was amazed at how courteous and welcoming County Clerk Office staff was. Their office wasn't going to press charges (we ended up being charged by the Daley Center building, not the specific office) and said we could stay indefinitely. They chatted with us, gave us bottled water, and we met a hilarious security guard named Dianne who entertained us by calling her negligent boyfriend on speakerphone. It was at least four hours after the office closed that the CPD arrived and finally took us to the 18th and State St. station.
3. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, EAT A BOLOGNA SANDWICH OFFERED TO YOU BY A WARDEN. One look at those things, and I about hurled. They come in a giant sack, so who knows who has been roaming through there, and I swear to you there was congealed fat around the sandwich perimeter. Ew.
4. Being frisked is not nearly as bad as one might think.
5. Police officers will tell you very different rules about what you can and cannot keep on you inside. They will tell you to keep your cash. They will then yell at you for having your cash. They will tell you to put things in your "red bag" even if you never received one, and then yell at you for not putting things in said bag. In any case, DO NOT call them on these things. Just smile and nod and hope you get out of there soon.
6. Note that you may be screwed with when it comes to processing. In our case, we arrived at the station around 5 PM, and what should have been a four or five hour process took about ten hours. No other people were processed in this time. We were the only ones in custody, and yet it was after 2 AM before we got released. I think police are a little testy when it comes to people who choose to be arrested. As one officer put it as he cuffed us at the bureau, "This is such a fucking waste of my time." And though we didn't take it personally that we were being arrested, one officer told us that he took it personally that we were inconveniencing him by being arrested. Seemed a little odd, but oh well.
7. If have any history of mental health issues and are asked about them, lie. Lie like you've never lied in your life, because under no circumstances do you want... THE PADDED CELL. Oh my god, that was abysmal. Thank God I was exhausted enough to sleep at least an hour or so, because I spent over four hours in that little room and if I had been conscious the whole time I think I would have started clawing at the walls. "Padded" actually just means two inches of rock-hard foam that cover every inch of the room. No toilet like the other individual holding cells, just a literal shit-hole in the floor (think Slumdog Millionaire) and that's about it. You, four walls, a floor, and a shit-hole. It was freakishly cold in there, and so I'm amazed I managed to sleep on the floor at all. I was kind of afraid to touch anything, as I have no idea what has soaked into that padding over the years, but it was either lie down or go stir crazy, so the decision was sort of made for me. I also passed about twenty minutes using the zipper of my coat to carve "DANI = DK2.0" on one of the walls. I figured it was appropriate to do in the crazy cell.
8. Associate yourself with someone like Andy Thayer, who will come at 3 AM to pick you up from jail and drive you to your car bearing boxes of donuts and bagels for you to ravenously eat. People like Andy make the world go round.
9. There is no feeling of camaraderie quite like the feeling you get when the last person in your imprisoned party turns the corner and sees everyone waiting for him in the station lobby. It's distinct unto itself.
10. After all the singing, chanting, talking, bonding, waiting, laughing, pacing, sleeping, and reuniting, a little jailtime isn't so bad when you know you're going to be leaving within 24 hours and that you're there for a truly worthy cause. But it makes me appreciate how degrading and belittling going through the system must be for people for whom the process is indefinite. I didn't have to go over to County prison, but Andy has described it well enough for me to know that it's ten times worse than anything we went through. So I'm lucky, and I'm glad I was a part of this action. No regrets whatsoever.