I Got Arrested
This is a long one, and it rambles a bit. Hopefully your eyes don't glaze over. Also, this happened almost 8 years ago, and my mind might be playing tricks on me. Some memories might vary from what originally happened.
I visited my "mommy" at college my senior year of high school. She was a year older than me, and had informally adopted me and 3 of my friends as her daughters. It was little sibs weekend, and daughters are almost siblings, right? Anyway, we (my "siblings") went to visit for the weekend, and ended up at a party Saturday evening. Friday was 04/20, and I think the weekend also coincided with the end of the semester, so there were a good deal of people at the party. 300-500 by police accounts. I was young, and quite naive when it came to parties, let alone college parties. I spent a good portion of the evening observing, trying to blend in, and hanging out with the girls. The evening is rather vague, but I know part of it was spent in a garage talking to some guys. I'm sure we looked young and naive and cute...okay yeah, and they probably thought they could get in our pants. Whatever.
By my recollection, it was almost midnight when I saw a cop car go by. Now, I was 18 at the time. I wasn't doing anything illegal...okay I had some jello shots, but that hardly counts...but I was really worried that I'd get busted by the cops for being at a party, for hanging out with drug dealers, I dunno. Not that I saw anyone doing drugs, but I'm sure that was happening too. At that moment, I wanted to leave. But you know how it is when you're not the driver. You have to really work to persuade the driver, and if the driver's having fun partying, there's no way you're leaving. Plus, I was (still am to a degree) a goody-two shoes, and I'm sure they shrugged it off because of that. The cop ended up coming to the house to tell people to move their cars off the street. Cars had lined both sides of the street, and the road was (is) just wide enough for two cars to drive on, so parking on both sides of the street meant that only one-lane of traffic was optional. Some dumb-fuck was drunk, and pissed that the cops wanted cars to move, so he threw a beer bottle at the car. This naturally pissed off the police officer and he called in reinforcements.
The reinforcements included the local university's riot force, the local university's police force, and the city's police force. They came to break up the party. At that point, it was mass chaos. People were scrambling, I was freaking out, and was worried I was going to get tear-gassed. Is that even a word? Our car was parked in the driveway and surrounded by cars. There was no way we were leaving in our vehicle, and we weren't going to walk towards the police. So we stayed at the apartment, in one of the tenants bedrooms. Now's probably a good time to explain the complex layout. The building is really one building with two separate apartments that was built on a hill. The front door of the apartment we were in led into a guy's bedroom. From the bedroom, double doors led out to the kitchen and stairs. The living room and a bathroom were downstairs, and the garage was at the back of the house as well. We hung out in the guy's bedroom. The front door was locked, and a couch barricaded the double doors. For the record, the couch was there before the party to keep out partiers, and was not placed there when the police came. The room was dark, and we were silent and nervous, waiting for the cops to leave. Eventually we heard them in the apartment, and all of the sudden the double-doors in the bedroom were getting banged on, and eventually the police busted down the door and shoved the couch back. At that point, we were officially screwed.
We were all taken downstairs. I think there were 15 of us idiots that didn't have the common sense to leave. I don't remember if we were handcuffed before or after they brought us downstairs, but they didn't have enough cuffs to go around, so some of us were handcuffed to each other. It made things interesting, if not painful. You try walking downstairs backwards while handcuffed to someone. Eventually we were taken to the police station and made to sit on the garage floor. The garage floor was cold, and bugs crawled across it. I think a friend of mine played with a potato bug, but I might be wrong. Mind you, this entire time I'm flipping out, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do, hoping I'm not charged with anything extreme, and wondering if they've already called my parents. That's what I was really worried about. We got our pictures taken, and I smiled. I don't remember being fingerprinted, and I don't remember them reading us our rights. At one point, a cop came into the garage to tell us what's going on and said, "Well, we considered charging you with rioting..." and my friend laughed. When you think of rioter, she's the extreme opposite, so it truly was ludicrous that rioting even crossed their minds. He didn't take too kindly to that and said, "You think that's funny? That's a 6th degree felony!" They "let us off" with Failure to Disperse (guess we should've walked into the tear gas), Obstruction of Official Business (never put a couch in front of a doorway), and something else. I'm pretty sure there were 3 charges. "Mommy" called her ex to pick us up, which he did. He was in the middle of fighting with his girlfriend, and they broke up because he chose us over her. It was a crazy sucky night. But doesn't that also make me a bad-ass? Okay, a partial bad-ass?
I visited my "mommy" at college my senior year of high school. She was a year older than me, and had informally adopted me and 3 of my friends as her daughters. It was little sibs weekend, and daughters are almost siblings, right? Anyway, we (my "siblings") went to visit for the weekend, and ended up at a party Saturday evening. Friday was 04/20, and I think the weekend also coincided with the end of the semester, so there were a good deal of people at the party. 300-500 by police accounts. I was young, and quite naive when it came to parties, let alone college parties. I spent a good portion of the evening observing, trying to blend in, and hanging out with the girls. The evening is rather vague, but I know part of it was spent in a garage talking to some guys. I'm sure we looked young and naive and cute...okay yeah, and they probably thought they could get in our pants. Whatever.
By my recollection, it was almost midnight when I saw a cop car go by. Now, I was 18 at the time. I wasn't doing anything illegal...okay I had some jello shots, but that hardly counts...but I was really worried that I'd get busted by the cops for being at a party, for hanging out with drug dealers, I dunno. Not that I saw anyone doing drugs, but I'm sure that was happening too. At that moment, I wanted to leave. But you know how it is when you're not the driver. You have to really work to persuade the driver, and if the driver's having fun partying, there's no way you're leaving. Plus, I was (still am to a degree) a goody-two shoes, and I'm sure they shrugged it off because of that. The cop ended up coming to the house to tell people to move their cars off the street. Cars had lined both sides of the street, and the road was (is) just wide enough for two cars to drive on, so parking on both sides of the street meant that only one-lane of traffic was optional. Some dumb-fuck was drunk, and pissed that the cops wanted cars to move, so he threw a beer bottle at the car. This naturally pissed off the police officer and he called in reinforcements.
The reinforcements included the local university's riot force, the local university's police force, and the city's police force. They came to break up the party. At that point, it was mass chaos. People were scrambling, I was freaking out, and was worried I was going to get tear-gassed. Is that even a word? Our car was parked in the driveway and surrounded by cars. There was no way we were leaving in our vehicle, and we weren't going to walk towards the police. So we stayed at the apartment, in one of the tenants bedrooms. Now's probably a good time to explain the complex layout. The building is really one building with two separate apartments that was built on a hill. The front door of the apartment we were in led into a guy's bedroom. From the bedroom, double doors led out to the kitchen and stairs. The living room and a bathroom were downstairs, and the garage was at the back of the house as well. We hung out in the guy's bedroom. The front door was locked, and a couch barricaded the double doors. For the record, the couch was there before the party to keep out partiers, and was not placed there when the police came. The room was dark, and we were silent and nervous, waiting for the cops to leave. Eventually we heard them in the apartment, and all of the sudden the double-doors in the bedroom were getting banged on, and eventually the police busted down the door and shoved the couch back. At that point, we were officially screwed.
We were all taken downstairs. I think there were 15 of us idiots that didn't have the common sense to leave. I don't remember if we were handcuffed before or after they brought us downstairs, but they didn't have enough cuffs to go around, so some of us were handcuffed to each other. It made things interesting, if not painful. You try walking downstairs backwards while handcuffed to someone. Eventually we were taken to the police station and made to sit on the garage floor. The garage floor was cold, and bugs crawled across it. I think a friend of mine played with a potato bug, but I might be wrong. Mind you, this entire time I'm flipping out, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do, hoping I'm not charged with anything extreme, and wondering if they've already called my parents. That's what I was really worried about. We got our pictures taken, and I smiled. I don't remember being fingerprinted, and I don't remember them reading us our rights. At one point, a cop came into the garage to tell us what's going on and said, "Well, we considered charging you with rioting..." and my friend laughed. When you think of rioter, she's the extreme opposite, so it truly was ludicrous that rioting even crossed their minds. He didn't take too kindly to that and said, "You think that's funny? That's a 6th degree felony!" They "let us off" with Failure to Disperse (guess we should've walked into the tear gas), Obstruction of Official Business (never put a couch in front of a doorway), and something else. I'm pretty sure there were 3 charges. "Mommy" called her ex to pick us up, which he did. He was in the middle of fighting with his girlfriend, and they broke up because he chose us over her. It was a crazy sucky night. But doesn't that also make me a bad-ass? Okay, a partial bad-ass?