The Pokey and the Amazon

It was a Saturday afternoon my senior year of college. My then-boyfriend had "the guys" over and they were doing manly things like drinking Coors Light, dipping, and openly farting while watching some sports game on TV. Ryan had permitted me to stay and hang out with the boys; I didn't mind as long as free beer was involved.

I was waiting for a phone call from my friend Sandy, who was serving her 24 hours in jail for her recent DUI. I was supposed to pick her up afterwards. Upon hearing this, each boy goes around the room and reminisces about his time in the pokey. There were 8 of us in the room, and we each had a story. 8 college seniors/ graduates. 8 otherwise law-abiding citizens with jobs and pay taxes. The people in this room are not bad people; I am not a bad person.

This was the moment where my general distrust for the police took full effect. Previously, I had always feared them: the one that sexually harassed me when I was 16, the ones that gave me a hard time late at night on Highway 316, and the one that body slammed a woman picking her 78-year-old mother at the airport. I wasn't there, but I saw the video on the news and it was pretty terrifying. In my experience, it was the scary kids in high school who would show you their illegal butterfly knife collections that grew up to become police officers, the ones the government would hand weapons to.

Since this moment, I have treated every police officer how they deserve: the nice, helpful ones get my respect and the jerks with the illegal butterfly knife collection and power trips get my disdain.

I was having a hell of a time parallel parking. I was downtown and needed to register my truck since I moved. A safari-clad police officer approached me, dressed all in khaki with one of those gay hats with the string that goes under your chin.

"I hope you're not parking there."

"Why not?"

"Do you see that sign?"

"What sign?"

He points to a sign a block away. I could barely see it.

"It's too far away, I can't see it."

"Well it's there."

"Can you read it to me?"

This really pissed him off. Even he had to walk up a few steps to read it.

"It says 'No parking. Police and Court Lawyer parking only.'"

I looked along the side of the street. I saw one police car parked there. The rest were civilian cars.

"So all these cars are..."

"Lady, I don't NOT have time for this!" Safari Police Man reaches in his pocket and pulls out the pad he writes tickets with.

"Hey! I am not doing anything illegal! I am not parked in this space, the car is running and is in reverse. All I did was ask a question. You didn't even let me finish it. I could have been saying, "So all these cars are lawyers'?" but you were so quick to judge!"

What was he going to give me a ticket for, attitude? I totally meant it the way he took it, but he could never prove it. He doesn't have time to write parking tickets for everyone parked along the street, but he has time to harass me. In either case, I left before he could say anything else. Safari Police Man returned to the corner of the street and resumed scratching his ass.