A friend of mine, that don't from here, tu sabes, said during a conversation- "You guys talk about Albuquerque cops being so crooked, like, cops anywhere else aren't crooked at all. What you think? The cops in NY City are soo just by the book..."
We laughed at ourselves.
I think cops a necessary part of society.
But, c'mon, Officers, think of your own families while your out there, be more relaxed- listen with your hearts to the society you rolling up on, s'pose to be protecting (your departments should add to that - encouraging), not profiling, use common sense in your judgement, and fear not following your hearts' inclinations to give leniency to your fellow citizens when you feel it. I know y'all do feel like doing that way more often than you ever act upon. I see it, yer eyes can't lie...
I had a bench warrant for TRAFFIC TICKETS!, got pulled over for a lack of funds, technically termed Expired Tags, and jailed on the morning of New Years Eve! Spent 6 1/2 days in Metropolitan Detention Center, otherwise known as the Arctic Refrigeration Human Endurance Laboratory. My first encounter 'on the inside'- the damned crazy ass woman, whose tendencies for psycho drama targeted my life and- OH! Interception! The ball dropped on traffic-court date resulting in a 'cash only' $500 bench warrant for failure to appear (flag on the play, Ref?) and poof! MDC unisex suit in a lovely, matching, naval-orange-and-hint of tangerine-cotton-denim-blend, so uncomfortably baggie, airy, and chafing... She, the ultimate cause I was modeling this jail fashion, and a shitload more that isn't relative to this here story, was also there! Oh, this is gonna be a ride, I thought to myself... I was stuck in lock down for three days, watching her roam freely as a trustee, stopping to taunt me, sending 'tough girls' to walk up and mad dog me, passing book under my door with passages underlined to impart her desired threats- That gal was 'back in her element': kissing jail guard ass, pretending the tragedy of the truth didn't exist in this altered reality. She laughed fake, loud laughs, not in sincerity, but intended like "notice me, because I'm queen bee, gonna show 'em your weak and afraid of my sting".
By Day three, she was bringing coffee to me and my two cellies. The mad dog looks from her crew had turned into glances of curiosity, then to smiles of courtesy. Power of truth coupled with karma, folks. That bruja of negativity, with the freedom, although limited, to roam, ability to spin her web of lies into the ears of many, had tried to sway a posse of gossip mongers- usually so easily swayed, eager to prey upon the sorrow of one singled out, and cornered target, and so shifting their awareness from attending to their own inner sorrows, it started happening that they couldn't be swayed to further acts of hate. In the confines of my cell (feeling like a lab rat), focusing my inner strength on forgiveness, and equipped with no more than my love for the truth which gives me the ability to look anyone in the eye, I stuck to my truth and it brought out the best in them.
Thwarted, she displayed the same, lest she lose her moxi in the hierarchy of the jail microcosm. Revealing that her true character is really centered upon hate, chaos, and inflicting pain (for much the same reasons mentioned above of her posse), their ease to hate would've made it too obvious to keep them from noticing her actions run contrary to the principles of Jesus's love she so devilishly preaches. Mutiny on the bounty, she'd be walking the plank. This hellcat loves psycho drama, but that don't make her stupid.
Day Four I got moved to 'program pod' of general population, a way better place according to the gals I was in lock down with. My experience of it- indoor boot camp, where a beautiful African American drill sergeant was seemingly on her own vindication mission and punishing pod f-5 for all the crimes of oppression committed against her race. Her eye shadow- 'the color purple'. In there, I was given a choice: solitary confinement until my release or until I agreed to receiving an injection of- what? Oh hell no, girlfriend had to hold my hand, with a tear in my eye, a reluctant 'fine', I allowed the cheerleader, sparkly-eyed nurse-chick to, unnecessarily, stick me with a needle that injected into my arm that..that (nanotechnology? if I find out, I'm suing, cuz if you take a look at your paperwork, lil nursey, I did not sign the papers stating I agreed to yer injecting my arm with that- that stuff you said!) . Also that day, after relinquishing my arm to the nanobots injection, it was a piece of cake surviving the pressure of the beady-eyed 'program' mentor's gaze that coerced a 'forced confession' of admitting twice and rather loudly that I was guilty of being an alcoholic &/or an addict. Forcing conformity in us all, my fellow incarcerated sisters had to say 'Hi' back to me in unison. Wow, brilliantly ineffective, those dumb mad scientists, I'm still a nonconformist, maybe even a commie pinko bastard too...well, maybe just a pinko, yeah!
Day Six- My Gratitude goes out to the raven haired, green-eyed beauty of equally admirable smarts. Girlfriend's ex BF was a bail bonds man, and the gorgeous chicka, after days, had managed to remember a phone number to reach him, igniting tremendous shared hope: Hope she remembered the right number, hope the person on the other end would accept a collect call- the only kind of calls an inmate can make-, hope (one I had experienced before, but definitely NOT in this capacity) that ex bf-dude was still smitten (uh,that one was mostly a given, but still, as hot chicks all know, karma from pride could mess that up, gotta keep it maintained in hope-status), and lastly, hope that the ex bf-dude was still smitten for the kitten so much that he would agree to help her get released. Whoops, that wasn't the last of the hope, in addition to all the hope for her, another gal and I shared more of our own hope that, if ex bf-dude helped babygirl get the f*** out, then, once out, babygirl would give us the help we needed to get the f*** out.
Know this also, the desperation of people wanting the F*** out will make them promise all kinds of things. You gotta HOPE that once they're out, they will follow through on helping you, THAT"S a grip of hope, huh?!
Skinning palms and bumping knuckles, we then crossed our fingers, and tried to keep all those around us as quiet as possible so as to not interfere with either end's ability to hear. Our combined efforts, forcing the universe to bend to our wills, all the hopes in each of us for to getting the F*** out were entirely dependent on this one-chance-only all-important phone call.
We could only hope (damn, oops, there's more) that the one minute opportunity- in reality just thirty seconds because a recorded message maddeningly interrupts that precious little time frame- that all that we hoped to be communicated could be, and would be.... That evening, beauty got the kick out, ex bf-bail bonds man-dude got her the f*** out.
Whew! Recollection was almost as draining as the real experience..
*note for single chicks & self: secure future ability to get the F*** out. Start dating a frickin bail bonds man today and ensure that the break up ends amiably!!
Day 6 1/2 Anxiety over whether Beauty was going to follow through and make a phone call on my behalf had me biting my lips until they were chapped. The North Pole temperatures had them turning blue. If beauty didn't come through for me, I would have to be prepared to be chapped and blue another fifteen days. In my (forced) participation in the 'program', I'd already been incited to tears by the misinformation these 'programs' are programming into the minds of the women that are in 'em; instilling half truths, skimming the surface of information, when they should be entitled to the full extent of all related information, therefore, the 'programs" not equipping them with the most effective skills and information that would enable them to achieve better results for long-term, total recovery from their addiction. That's just so half ass! Basically making money off their suffering..Ah, that kinda revolutionary smack-talk could get me stuck in their system for sure!!Be silent in cooperation- Don't rock the Boat, I told myself. Even in this knowledge, to stifle my strong opinions about 12 step programs, as well as my even stronger urges to share 'correct' knowledge is a tortuously difficult task to adhere to for me. Damn, but jail sucks when you don't belong there.
Day 6 1/2 All 65 female inmates in program pod F-5 cheer and clap, restoring my own faith in myself. Happened in the middle of the NA meeting, right after the AA meeting. The Humanitarian Degradation Officer, there to insure inmate compliance to keeping the standards of suffrage and sub-human treatment, announced, "Wickham! Your kicked out!", and gave my big mouth freedom to speak, without the fear of persecution (hey, isn't that, like the first amendment of our constitutional rights? !). A spur-of-the-moment announcement right there just had to be poured outta me; "Hi Im Teresina, and I'm a bench warrant addict, guilty of lacking funds, I'm NOT an alcoholic or a drug addict, I was made to comply in saying that; only I choose the labels that describe me... Can't say its been a pleasure having this opportunity to meet y'all, but I can say that I think each and every one of you is a FUCKIN beautiful woman! My cellie has a list of books I left with her that blow these big-business- 12 step bullshit programs away if any of you are truly interested in real recovery..(yep, my sense of self restored with their cheers) Who needs my bra? Sorry- my undies already got traded for chocolate, and I'm keeping my socks in case I gotta walk after dark- cuz we all know being 'processed for release' (getting back yer own clothes & letting you out the door you came in) takes 8-14 hrs....and-"
"Wickham! Your fuckin kicked out! WICKHAM! Now! Get the f*** out!" hahaha yada yada..but, oh those ladies, some of em so handsome- yeah, coulda turned me, maybe :) - But, really, WTF, a very good many there for infractions that, IDK, you tell me, didn't seem like it warranted separation from their families, specially their babies!!! Wondering when I'll find more like me, and gain the momentum to REALLY change these right/wrong misconceptions in our society, and reset our systems to be based upon real knowledge of right n wrong...
OMG!!! Whoo Hoo! HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm FREE and this year is gonna ROCK!
No names have been named to protect the identity of the guilty until proof they can put together enough money so their lawyer can accordingly bribe the assigned judge into pronouncing their sentence deferred.
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