Arrest
Well... that was probably the single most interesting night of my life.
Driving home from Kristen's... apparenly going a little fast. A county police officer started following me. And apparently I must've been really out of it, because apparently I took long enough to pull over that when I did pull over? He had pulled a gun on me and yelled "get on the fucking ground". Needless to say, I did. At which point he promptly handcuffed me (too tightly. The skin is still a little swollen and red- 17 hours later) and searched me, and my things. I was very confused and kind of dazed. I think he asked me what I was on a good 15-20 times in total. Being the utterly paranoid cop that he was- he put me in the back of his SUV-thing, and started digging through my truck. Very thoroughly.
What did he find? *drumroll*
...
...
Absolutely nothing! (surprise, surprise).
I was read my rights and carted off. He asked where I had been coming from, I said Grand Rapids. He asked what I had been doing there, I said visiting my girlfriend. He asked where my girlfriend lived, I assumed he was an idiot. Apparently I was wrong, because when I said she lived in Grand Rapids, he accused me of being smart with him. Which really was not my intention at all (It's his fault for not being specific. If you want a fucking address, then you should ask "what's her address?"). We chatted on the way back to the county jail. When we got there, I was allowed to attempt to call my parents, but it was no good. That number was restricted. I was utterly alone, in a freaking jail. Needless to say, I was somewhat anxious.
Over the next half hour, they processed me and took me to a "jail cell". This cell was not what Hollywood likes to pretend jail cells are like. It was small. Probably 8 paces from front to back, and 4 from side to side. There was a toilet/sink hybrid in the back. And on one side, the concrete floor was raised up about six inches. This was my bed. I had a scratchy blanket, and a concrete slab. The door closed, and I was even more alone.
Frightfully alone, actually. There was nothing to do in that room. I was left completely alone with nothing to keep me company but my own thoughts. And at the time, they were not comforting thoughts. I still had not been able to get in contact with my family. They were probably worried out of their minds because noone had heard from me. Worst of all, I couldn't tell time. There was no clock, there was no window to outside, the lights didn't even turn off for night.
Between bouts of freaking out, calming down, and having panic attacks (yes, there is a difference between a panic attack and general freaking out), I somehow managed to sleep. I'm not sure for how long. Probably four hours. Roughly. And then I got up. And by got up, I mean I opened my eyes, because that was just about all that getting up entailed in that place. Some time (a few hours later?) breakfast came around. There was a tray, with a small section filled with cheerios. And a carton of skim milk (amusingly, the same sort they sold us back in high school). There was also toast, and a shot glass sized plastic cup filled with orange juice. Mmm, delicious. Not really. I managed to get down the OJ and one piece of toast before feeling a bit sick.
A few hours later, the resident psych guy came in to check on me (I was on the suicide watch list because of my depression). He irritated me a lot. He was talking as though I would be a permenant resident. I forgive him though, because I asked him if he had the time, and he said quarter past nine.
45 minutes later, a woman opened up my cell door, and said I was being released. I was to gather my things, and walk out the door. And I did. And then I realized I was stranded in a government section of Charlotte. It would be a two hour walk to get home. And I couldn't exactly go door to door asking people to use their phones (not a residential zone). Thankfully, the county courthouse was right next to the county jail, and they had a payphone that I could have the operator call my house (collect, unfortunately. No money on me ftl). Half an hour later, I had never been more happy to see my parents in my life.
Driving home from Kristen's... apparenly going a little fast. A county police officer started following me. And apparently I must've been really out of it, because apparently I took long enough to pull over that when I did pull over? He had pulled a gun on me and yelled "get on the fucking ground". Needless to say, I did. At which point he promptly handcuffed me (too tightly. The skin is still a little swollen and red- 17 hours later) and searched me, and my things. I was very confused and kind of dazed. I think he asked me what I was on a good 15-20 times in total. Being the utterly paranoid cop that he was- he put me in the back of his SUV-thing, and started digging through my truck. Very thoroughly.
What did he find? *drumroll*
...
...
Absolutely nothing! (surprise, surprise).
I was read my rights and carted off. He asked where I had been coming from, I said Grand Rapids. He asked what I had been doing there, I said visiting my girlfriend. He asked where my girlfriend lived, I assumed he was an idiot. Apparently I was wrong, because when I said she lived in Grand Rapids, he accused me of being smart with him. Which really was not my intention at all (It's his fault for not being specific. If you want a fucking address, then you should ask "what's her address?"). We chatted on the way back to the county jail. When we got there, I was allowed to attempt to call my parents, but it was no good. That number was restricted. I was utterly alone, in a freaking jail. Needless to say, I was somewhat anxious.
Over the next half hour, they processed me and took me to a "jail cell". This cell was not what Hollywood likes to pretend jail cells are like. It was small. Probably 8 paces from front to back, and 4 from side to side. There was a toilet/sink hybrid in the back. And on one side, the concrete floor was raised up about six inches. This was my bed. I had a scratchy blanket, and a concrete slab. The door closed, and I was even more alone.
Frightfully alone, actually. There was nothing to do in that room. I was left completely alone with nothing to keep me company but my own thoughts. And at the time, they were not comforting thoughts. I still had not been able to get in contact with my family. They were probably worried out of their minds because noone had heard from me. Worst of all, I couldn't tell time. There was no clock, there was no window to outside, the lights didn't even turn off for night.
Between bouts of freaking out, calming down, and having panic attacks (yes, there is a difference between a panic attack and general freaking out), I somehow managed to sleep. I'm not sure for how long. Probably four hours. Roughly. And then I got up. And by got up, I mean I opened my eyes, because that was just about all that getting up entailed in that place. Some time (a few hours later?) breakfast came around. There was a tray, with a small section filled with cheerios. And a carton of skim milk (amusingly, the same sort they sold us back in high school). There was also toast, and a shot glass sized plastic cup filled with orange juice. Mmm, delicious. Not really. I managed to get down the OJ and one piece of toast before feeling a bit sick.
A few hours later, the resident psych guy came in to check on me (I was on the suicide watch list because of my depression). He irritated me a lot. He was talking as though I would be a permenant resident. I forgive him though, because I asked him if he had the time, and he said quarter past nine.
45 minutes later, a woman opened up my cell door, and said I was being released. I was to gather my things, and walk out the door. And I did. And then I realized I was stranded in a government section of Charlotte. It would be a two hour walk to get home. And I couldn't exactly go door to door asking people to use their phones (not a residential zone). Thankfully, the county courthouse was right next to the county jail, and they had a payphone that I could have the operator call my house (collect, unfortunately. No money on me ftl). Half an hour later, I had never been more happy to see my parents in my life.