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| 5:40 to 8:00 means 2 hours and 20 minutes to sleep. It was the first real recuperation i had since getting thrown into the slammer. When the timer ran out a lot of noise awoke me, guards were walking all throughout central bookings making noise along the cell rails letting us know that the judge had arrived and that arraignments will begin. This is indeed good news for it spells freedom for those of us who hadn't infringed against the law to harshly. The lights in the three rooms opposite the cell door flickered to life as a security guard keyed his way into the holding room. he unlocked all three wooden doors and promptly left the cell keying his way out. Those who had been arrested prior knew what was happening, alas i did not so i inquired with robin who i know was arrested in the past. He told me we get to see state appointed attorneys to go over our criminal infraction, and a defense would be built for us if we pleaded not guilty.
One by one in alphabetical order our names were called by skinny rich guys who parked themselves behind jail rails opposite the wooden doors. Robin, being Berry, was quickly called upon. He decided it'd be easier to plead guilty and advised me to do the same. He informed me the penalty would be a small fine and probably community service for up to a week, just then a cell mate rose up and informed us that the penalty and punishment is decided dependent on the mood of the judge. At that Robin made a crack, "I hope he had a Happy Meal for breakfast then". Everyone chuckled when a guard came forth. In a snooty voice he told us not to laugh, that being in jail isn't enjoyable. This only made us chuckle some more. Angrily the guard called a handful of people's names and exhumed them from the cell and down the hall, through a fancy door. When Robin was called by the guard he said he'd wait for my arraignment and we'd leave together. I accepted gleefully seeing as I was not familiar with where i was, nor with the process that would follow.
It took a long time, an hour, until my appointed lawyer called my name. I stepped through the wooden door and was greeted by a skinny rich guy who spoke with a heavy Brooklyn accent. He went over my legal infractions and then asked if i wanted to plead guilty. Remembering what Robin told me i answered guilty. The lawyers response was a short "are you sure". I thought about it and inquired as to what my chances of being let off would be if i pleaded not guilty. I have no recollection of his exact words but he said something along the lines, 'pleading not guilty for such a legal infraction would be 'stupid''. Of course he didn't say stupid, he used some other fancy word. So we agreed, I'd plead guilty. I thanked the lawyer and was pardoned from the wooden door room.
I took my spot on the metal benches and waited around 45 minutes for the guard to call my name. Along with three others we were taken out of the cell and were led through the fancy door. We then entered another universe, a fully fledged courtroom. We were seated on benches seperate from everybody and everything. I was amazed at the number of people sitting in the crowd, the number of people working behind the judge's high seat. It was definitely another universe.
| | |
| the cell was larger, and more dim. the walls were painted in two tones,
a dark greed on top and a burgendy red on the bottom. metal benches
assumed the large portion of the cell's space. on one side was the cell
door, an exposed toilet on the otherend of the entry way. accross the
door were three more doors - wooden with thick plastic windows sat. the
light was off, and the room was locked so what was inside it, i would
not know. accross the other side of the cell door was a wall littered
with windows, letting all the cold of the night seep into this box we
were in. lorin's name wasn't called when i was brought up to this cell.
right now me and robin sat there. there wasanother cell, adjacent to
this one, that reached farther down the hall, that was being cleaned
before the facility was closed for the night - as in, workers gone,
security there. obviously. regardless. the cell was cleaned, and we
were moved. to a cell that looked exactly the same as the one prior,
only smelled of lysol cleaner shit.
i took a corner immediately and got as comfortable as i could. hoping
to get some sleep. to bring me to that state i kind of just looked at
the people around in the cell. one black man, wearing a black hoodie
with a jean jacket and dirty jean pants, was in another corner - one
eye completely shut and the other completely open. it wasn't moving
like he was awake, but it definently didn't look like he was sleeping.
some layed on the floors to try to catch some sleep but the draft was
devastating. others talked a bit, nothing that really caught my
attention. it was really weird being shacked up in bookings.. and it
kinda just dawned on me at that point... being 'locked up' for the
hours i've been, and the hours that still await. the thought of being a
prisoner, almost like, withoutfreedom, just threw me off whack. i
didn't panic or shit, i kept telling myself 'look man, i'll be out of
here soon' but i was still uneasy.
i tried to find words to talk with some of the people around me, who
seemed to not be able to sleep aswell, but none came. robin was
sleeping, and my imagination started to dwell on the uneasyness. that
only made it worse, so i questioned why i couldn't get rid of it.
eventually it died down a bit. i closed my eyes for awhile,
concentrating on getting warm. my jacket was great - but my legs were
frozen yo. eventually everybody fell asleep, aside from the one eye
opened guy (i decided he was awake) and myself, but i might as well
have been asleep - the boredum put me in a trance or something, i was
kind of in like an open eyed, concious sleep mode. motionlesss, like
the one eye open, one eye closed, awake guy. what brough my power back
on was the noise of guards walking around on the exterior. i looked up
and saw that there were a few people that were also just getting up. as
the guard walked right by our cell, one asked what time it was?
the guard said it was 5:40, and three of the guys immediately went back
to get more sleep. i thought it would be later than 5:40... i asked the
last dude awake, and man in a beige blazer and a navy blue hoodie, with
black jeans, if he knew what time the judge was getting here.
"i not sure, but i heard earlier that it was at 8:00 or something"
"cool thanks" i responded leaning my head back against the wall. closing my eyes and trying to go back to sleep.
| | |
| it was kind of cold in this cell. it was in the middle of winter this
shit happened, and the whole place, central bookings.... it was almost
like a labyrinth. like imagine a castle's cell chambers. add some
lighting, and cement walls, which were poorly painted, as the better
material castle chamber. anyway, it was drafty, and unsoundly cold
through out the whole damn place. the metal bench wasn't comfortable
unless you sat on your jacket, so i was kind of stuck being
uncomfortable, but warm, and trying to find sleep. lorin who was in
this cell with me and bohr sat comfortably against the bars, two big
older men in between us. robin took his corner and passed out. about 30
minutes into silent waiting a few more people were brought into the
cell, squeezing their way in between people, or just going to sleep on
the floor. conversations soon arose from a talkative fellow. light in
skinned and random gashes and cuts along the face and battered tattered
clothes and a left arm littered with black and blues. he asked peoples
sitting around him what they were in for, probably waiting to get asked
why he got arrested. the first guy he asked, a fat black man who looked
pretty chill, wearing jean pants, and a jean jacket, told his story in
some detail:
'ohhh man, it was some bullshit. i was walking back home after picking up some grass, and got stopped for smelling like liquor.'
the beat up guy, ' ah man that's fucking fucked man, fucking pigs yo, such assholes'
'yea man, i got searched and they found a 100 sack... that shit was goning to last me the week, and now this crap happens'
'fuckin pigs' - the talkative (beat up) guy said. 'how 'bout
you?" he said looking at an asain fellow next to him. this asian dude
looked like he was part of the yacuza yo. he had on a ghetto atired
yellow fubu hoodie, and huge sweatpants on that got real tight at the
ankles, so he could, i guess, show off his fucking expensive ass
jordans.
' cops found out i was growing and selling weed from my crib'
'aaaah sheeeet son, what happened?' said the talkative guy. at the
time, i sat up a bit, and was a little eager to hear the story,
guessing cause it was about p.o.t. now that i think back on that, it
was a stupid reason to get interested. either way that interest didn't
get fulfilled.
'uh.. mah bad yo, but i just wanna forget that shit'
everybody got a lil silent at this point, and the room was silently
waiting for the next shift. 15 minutes into the silence, the first dude
asked why he was in, asked said in return to the talkative guy:
'hey man, you look pretty beat up, why were you arrested?'
the guy lit up and sat up, energizing the room with how enthusiased he was to be able to share his twisted story.
"man, it's a dumb stupid story. fucking my girlfriend's mom was bein a
mad big bitch dawg, like telling her that she didn't want her to see me
anymore. and mah girlfriend was like on her fucking side trying to get
a restraining ordah on me. an i was like yo fuck this shit b, why her
moms gotta be fiending on me and shit. so i went over to mah
girlfriends house, and beat the shit out of her mom and bsuted the
hosue up and shit. i went back home and the cops came through right
after i did a fucking eightball to the grill. probably mah girlfriend,
that fucking bitch, told the fucking pigs where i live. so they came
througha nd shit and tried to arrest me. so i tried fucking them
nigga's up yo. i got one of them pow in the mother fucking face yo, he
went twirling and shit ahahaa.'
'anyway yo, they took out their fucking nigga stix and started beating
on me, but i fucked them up yo, pussies gotta get nigga' stix out to
take my ass down. but im not gonna lie, i just took a fucking 8ball
nigga, i was gonna ass them out mad high son. word so now i'm here yo,
ima sue their asses for unnessarilly fucking me up yo, i got mah lawyer
here, and when she see's me fucked up like this we're gonna sue them
fuckin pigs yo, i swear. nigga's gotta be taking out nigger stix and
fucking beating me this fucked up. nah nigga that ain't working,
ahahaaaa'
everybody kind of looked at him... like... this is one fucked up in the
head nigga yo. that's definently what i thought. the cell began to
silently wait once again. until we were called out again, and led to a
room where we were filed together, getting our names asked. me and bohr
were in this first group. we were then brought up a maze of stairs to
another cell fixture, one that had little rooms where appointed
attorneys would talk to you. but it was like 3 in the morning by this
point. there were not attornies, and there was no judge. we'd have to
wait for the morning now... i didn't get any sleep here, but i did have
an interesting night.
| | |
| 15 minutes felt like 2 hours, and the cell which entrapped me became
more filled. 16 year olds, 18, 20, 40 year old men entered and found
seating. I started to get a little uneasy being surrounded by all these
people, but immediatly realized, that shit, i'm here for awhile, i best
get adjusted to such cramped quarters. about 20 minutes into
nothingness, a woman came towards the cell with a palm pilot. calling
our names out one by one, we were asked our phone numbers, parents
names, age, and address. there might have been more information asked
out of us, but i can't recall what. After an amount of time i could not
measure a couple of cops started to pull us out of the cell we were in
and led us down the hall to another cell. compared to the crampness of
the first one, this second one was a hell hole. with no free benches i
parked my keester on the ground, laying on my jacket to try to catch
some sleep. Robin came up to me, shaking me a little out of me sleep.
"yo dude, when they asked me to empty my pockets before"
"yea?"
"i found a blunt clip"
"really? so what."
"im gonna smoke that shit son"
"in a fucking cell? with cops around?"
"word don't worry man, im gonna smoke it into a milk carton box, i saw people doing it or someshit last time i was here."
"okay dude go for it"
"yea but i don't have a light"
"oh that sucks dude"
"word"
I just remembered the matches that were in my pocket. as Robin stood up
to ask if anyone had a light i pulled out the blanket and checked to
see how many were left. 5. 5 matches. i gave him two and a peice of the
sand paper. he walked into the bathroom stall thing, milk carton at
hand and, yea, smoked his clip, cops didn't do shit. With his
initiative more people started pulling out clips and shit. One guy, who
i had asked previously why he was in bookings (for beating up his
girlfriends mom) had asked me for matches, in return for some hits on
his blunt. I gave him the matches and a fellow arrested ghetto asked
what kind of bud it was.
"it's some laced shit i got in my hood, this shit fucks you up"
"laced? no thanks dude don't wanna hit it"
"whateverman, still gets you high doesn't matter what it is"
Robin, smoked up, found a comfortable place to pass out, and did just
that. i tried to follow but the crampedness, and the awkward energy of
all these criminals threw me off balanace, and no sleep would come to
me. eventually, after what seemed like 2 hours we were taken from this
cell and moved to yet another. with a bench chair this time, i fell
into a state half between sleeping and wake. listening to the horrid
stories of some of the people in the cell with me. some of those
stories i'll share next entry.
| | |
| when the van parked outside the gray building the female bitch of a cop
driver exited the vehicle and opened the sliding door, maybe it only
opened from the outside, to further prevent escaped arresties? the male
cop stepped out and ordered us to exit by rows. lorin first, robin and
the smelly drunk dude, and then myself. as i was exiting the van my
wrist was again denied freedom, i figured i should make it seem like
the cuff was on tight, that way i won't get pepper sprayed or accused
of anything. in any case, we walked into the building via a guarded
gate and entered into the criminal reception area. the cops were
releaved of their guns, and we were led through a maze of cops and beige
walls, luminated by poor florescent lights. we were brought to a
section of what seemed like the same room we entered in from. we each
took turns talking to some guard guy, who examined us, got our records
further in detail, and then were exumed of any personals that the
'doers of justice' deemed dangerous, like my deoderant. why did i have
my deoderant. ah man, i missed that whole part. for my friend danny's
birthday he was going sking with his ole' ma and his cousins. i was
invited, therefore my bag which had been picked up by my parents was
full of clothes, and deoderant is a must of course. i'd be damned, i
missed a skiing trip to get arrested. isn't that fun. so this bitch
female cop, the same one that drove us to bookings, threw out my
deoderant. lorin robin and i laughed at that... how is deoderant death
inducing? bull kaka, they just wanted me to smell, blasted cops. after
this grueling process of personals eliminations, we were then led
through what seemed like our same path to the exit. a maze this place
was damnit, i was lost and have only been in the building for five
minutes. i guess that's the point of it. my guide, the female cop led
us through more dungeons and gates and security posts. i couldn't
believe my eyes. i couldn't belive a place like this exsisted anywhere
on the earth. criminals. i figured that this facility was developed to
keep certain people away from doing harm to others, but i was just in a
movie theater, how could i be meshed with criminals for sneaking into a
movie theather. this feeling dwelled on me harder later in the night,
or should i say morning, it was peeking 2:30am. we found ourselves led
to a hallway not painted beige, rather a grayish blue, and stood a
metal detector with a huge guard. we were informed that before
finalized placement into holding cells, to empty our pockets. i
figured, hell, i have nothing to hide, no drugs, nothing bad, so i
dumped all my contents onto the floor as did the other 'convicts'. the
guard quickly brushed through them and then told us to move through the
detector. we were then ordered to pick our stuff back up and place it
in our pockets. it was then that i noticed i had a pack of matches,
gone un noticed, in my pocket. i didn't think much of it, no cigarettes
in bookings, no weed in bookings. just cells. and cells is where we
were led. placed into the first one we crossed, i came to think that
this place wasn't so bad. lengthy metal benches surrounded the room,
with two payphones on either walls. i thought to call my parents, but i
figured they were sleeping or something by now, so i made myself
comfortable in a corner. while in the corner i just observed, and read.
i observed the water fountain and robin drinking from it, repulsed by
it's morbid flavor. i also saw a toilet, reached by a short flight of
stairs on a platform, surrounded by metal planks for 'privacy'. what
kind of privacy is there when people can see your whole upper body as
you pee, or your head as you poop. i didn't have to pee, or poop so i
didn't mind. i just sat, in my corner. reading the energies of passing
cops, and of entering convicts. waiting for time to pass, for in this
place, i read that time would be plenty spent.
| | |
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