Does your watch say it’s time to go to jail?
(Saved from the old blog – this was posted July 25, 2004 with the above title.)
At 4:30 Saturday morning I was knee deep in one of my collateral duties. It was one and a half hours into the operational phase, and we were in the process of arresting 75 drunks, drug dealers, prostitutes and other miscellaneous criminals at a Salvadoran bar. The street was full of police cars, as was the parking lot, in addition to a bus with “Some City Police” emblazoned across the sides. There were half a dozen cops in the parking lot and more coming from the club with handcuffed prisoners for the bus ride to jail.
Through the middle of this came Mr. Genius strolling down the sidewalk heading straight to the club. Six foot 2, and most definitely not a Salvadoran. I was talking with a couple of officers who their had their backs turned to him, but they saw the curious look on my face and turned around to see the dude. Mr. Genius was called over and asked where he was going.
”In the club, man”
I was incredulous. Pointing to all of the police, police cars and the bus full of people going to jail, I asked him if he thought that his course was really all that wise.
“Man, I ain’t worried about that cause I’m not no criminal. I’m a good person.”
“No, you’re not. It’s 4:30 in the morning and the only people on the street at this time are paperboys, criminals and cops. I don’t see any newspapers or a badge.
His criminal record and the judge who had signed a warrant for his arrest seemed to agree with me.
I would have liked to have seen the puzzled looks on the faces of the jail booking officers, who were expecting the big load of prisoners that Vice was bringing in from a raid on an Hispanic club, only to see 75 Salvadorans got off the bus with Mr. Genius standing in the middle of them.