Forbidden Conduct —

It's days like today that I wish I wasn't such a stubborn ass.

I've written briefly about my run-ins with the law, but I have a fairly impressive string of arrests, mostly from traffic-related shenanigans. But there were a few episodes in my Jack and Coke days where the authorities got involved. That's just one of a long list of reasons why I don't drink any more. I'm not a teetotaler, but it's wisest for me not to imbibe, as I'm prone to losing control of my mind.

Anyway, you know how there are articles from time to time on how to avoid a traffic ticket? And typically one of those tips is "Don't talk back"? Well, that rule applies to pretty much every encounter with a police officer, where they are the authority and you are under scrutiny.

Pretty basic rule. Seems pretty straightforward.

Yeah, I hate that fuckin' rule.

The other rule I don't seem capable of following is the "If you're getting cuffed, don't fight it."

Now, I've only ignored this rule when I'm drunk. But the fact is that every time I've been drunk and cuffed I've also struggled against their restraint as they knelt on the back of my head, grinding my teeth into the curb.

I'm anti-authoritarian by nature, so I really bristle at the amount of power the police have and their carte blanche ability to execute it. In particular, the disorderly conduct charge, which is basically whatever the arresting officer says it is.

So, here's what happened.

Today is November 4, the third day of November. For three days, I've ridden the train with an expired pass, which I've flashed several times to security guards both on the platforms and the train. My November pass is in an envelope on our bookshelf. I simply forgot it.

This morning, I walk up the platform, flash my pass and get on. A few stops later, a guard asks for passes, so I flash it again. She asks where my November pass is. I explain that I forgot to get it out. So, she asks for my October pass and my ID.

I give it to her and she starts writing a ticket.

"Wait, you're going to ticket me?"

"You need a valid pass to ride the train."

I pulled out my badge case which has every pass since I started riding the train a year ago. I keep them because I've been writing the title of whatever books I finished on the train that month. "I buy a monthly pass. I just forgot to put it in."

"You can tell that to the judge," she said as she wrote.

"Can't you just give me a warning? I'll buy a ticket tonight and I'll have my pass tomorrow."

"Sorry."

I sit there, fuming. People staring. Generally a humiliating experience.

She asks, "Do you want to sign this?" and I say no. She hands me the ticket and starts to walk away.

"Can I have my pass back?" I called to her.

"No, it's evidence, you can get it back when you go to court."

"Are you kidding? Evidence? It's my damned pass, I want it back."

Powertrip mode kicks in because I said a cuss word. Her attitude kicks in, "Sir, you can get it back from the judge."

So, I said to myself, "Stupid bitch."

Now, I knew that saying it even to myself was a bad idea. I know how the game works. We, the public, must always and everywhere treat police with respect and succumb to their authority because they have such a dangerous job, etc. But this was a fucking security guard. A fucking hall monitor.

I personally believe it is well within my rights as a citizen to respond to police angrily, especially if they're issuing me a ticket. I've had this argument plenty of times with friends who strongly disagree. I know why you shouldn't. But isn't the idea that there's an unspoken rule of universal deferment to police just one of the many pieces of the Police State puzzle? Maybe I'm overreacting, but it really bugs me that it has become for illegal all intents and purposes (through disorderly conduct laws) to argue with an officer or to raise your voice (remember Louis Gates?).

So, she says, "What did you say?"

And I'm sure as shit not back down. "I said, 'Stupid bitch.'"

She jumps on her radio and calls for backup. At the next station, she wants me to get off. I argue a bit because I don't want to be late, but that train has already left the station (megaPUN!)

We get off the train and it's just me, her and two other security guards. She raises her voice, so I raise my voice. Then I let the epithets fly. "Stupid mother fuckers. Rent-a-cops. Assholes." I'm pissed. They're pissed.

Then the cops show up.

They take me to their office and the stupid bitch tells her side. I tell mine. And he proceeds to tell me that he's going to write me a bunch of tickets for disorderly conduct.

Then we start arguing about disorderly conduct. Another cop arrives and joins the fray.

"I said 'Stupid bitch' to myself. It's not against the law to say 'Stupid bitch.'"

"It is against the law to offend people in public," the new cop said.

What? What fucking planet is this cop from?

No, it is not illegal to offend people. Lenny Bruce took care of a big chunk of that.

However, it is illegal to offend a cop (thank goodness for disorderly conduct).

I said as much, but all he responded with was, "Are you a lawyer? Are you a lawyer?"

No, but I'm not a moron either.

So, that was a nice, long, belligerant meeting. Glad I didn't get arrested at least. Got two tickets. One for an expired pass and the other for "forbidden conduct." I don't know if my comments on disorderly conduct prevented that from being used, but two tickets instead of a dozen is all right with me.

I was banned from the train for the rest of the day, so then I was stuck in East St. Louis with my laptop and no way home. I called Veronica, but the car is in the shop for brakes, so there was no way for her to pick me up.

I called information, but they couldn't find any cab companies nearby. I finally had V look it up and she found one nearby. I called and waited in a little diner for it to come. In the meantime, I ordered a sausage and egg sandwich.

As I sat there enjoying my breakfast I saw a sign that said "This Establishment has Been Rated Grade B."

Höek!

But it was good, so I finished it. Whatever rat genitals were in there, I already ingested. Oh well.

The cab finally came. It looked like an unmarked cop car with a handpainted sign on the side. Having no other way home, I risked it.

We get about halfway to my destination when I notice he doesn't even have a meter. So fuck me!

When we got there, he wanted 20 bucks for, maybe, 3 miles. Luckily, all I had was 15 because if I had 20, I would have given it, since I'm a push-over most of the time.

Thankfully, my boss laughed at my plight and said I could work from home. So, here I am, hiding from my daughters both for their sake and mine. If they saw me, they'd be climbing me like a jungle gym. If I saw them, I wouldn't get a damned thing done.

Oh well.

Can't wait to see the Stupid Bitch tomorrow with my shiny new pass!