Monday, July 24, 2006
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
When I was 17, I threw a small animal from a moving vehicle in a psychotic rage. You know what happened? Nothing.
When I was 20, I drove 30 miles home at 3:00 AM stoned, drunk, and rolling on Ecstasy. I put a cigarette out in the back seat of my car because I thought it was an ashtray. You know what happened? Nothing.
When I was 22, I stole $500 worth of liquor from a bar that screwed me out of money on my paycheck. You know what happened? Nothing.
A few months ago I parked, illegally. You know what happened? I spent the night in prison and got sentenced to 32 hours of community service.
When I lived in Williamsburg, I believe that’s what we would have referred to as “irony”.
Between the actual arrest, the court time, the jail time, the several mental breakdowns and the community service… it’s hard to pick a favorite. Really, they all had their special moments.
While getting handcuffed by a dozen cops and hauled down to the local precinct, I tried to maintain some sense of calm, but after about an hour of sitting chained to the wall in the local precinct, it dawned on me that this was not in fact on an episode of Punk'd.
Anoosh, whom I called to come gather my belongings, comforted me greatly by freaking the fuck out and calling my dad, who showed up about an hour later with my mother AND sister, all of whom contributed to my emotional well being by crying their eyes out… aside from my father who told me I was retarded.
Big Big, in an unprecedented show of emotion, cried for a full 10 minutes before being distracted by a new designer handbag.
They unchained me briefly to confer with my father in the back room of the precinct, but sadly his legal advice was watered down somewhat due to the fact Law and Order was playing on the television behind my head, and necessitated most of his attention.
I spent about 5 or 6 hours at the precinct being fingerprinted and what have you… the arresting cop asked me out, so that was nice. I, dressed appropriately as always, was wearing a tank top mini skirt and heels, so the other inmates were pretty fond of me as well.
Around midnight, they brought me down to central booking where I had the pleasure of undergoing an extensive strip search before being placed in a filthy, smelly, roach infested, urine covered cell of death along with 10 other women.
After greeting my new roomies- a couple of Korean prostitutes, several Hispanic drug dealers, a black chick who was there for assault and a 700 pound black lesbian who wouldn't speak but had apparently been there for three days- I "curled up" as best I could on the 11" wide, splintery, cold wooden bench that was still available, and attempted, futilely, to sleep.
I did pass out for about a minute around 2 in the morning, but was awoken moments later by a giant cockroach crawling up my thigh. After that, I was pretty much wide-awake the rest of the night.
Around 4 am they gave us frosted flakes, which of course I didn't eat, but gave to Taniqua the assault convict, who was very appreciative. I know this, because she said "You'd a'ite, white girl".
On my way back to my bench, the giant, mute lesbian grabbed my ankle and told me I had nice legs…. I didn't really know how to respond without crying, so I just smiled, and said "thank you!", then shook my ankle free and returned to my bench.
After about 10 sleepless hours of this, they brought me upstairs to an even smaller cell with even more people in it, this time with a few homeless chicks thrown in for good measure.
Around 3:00 in the afternoon, I finally got to see a judge for about 2 seconds, who dismissed me to a hysterical mother, bored sister, unstable Anoosh, and severely pissed off father.
Then I went home to Westchester, showered for several hours, popped a Valium and chain smoked till I passed out.
I made it to work the next day, where my co-workers gave me a card wishing me a speedy recovery from my kidney stone operation.
I had nearly recovered from this incredibly pleasant experience, when the time rolled around for me to do community service.
Waking up at 6:00 was a great start to the day, and was complimented nicely by the next 8 hours spent picking up garbage in the Bronx. The fact that my friends were spending the week on the beach in the Hamptons added to my enjoyment of the situation immensely as well.
I made some great new friends… Consuela, who pulled a knife on the cops, was very nice about helping me get the intravenous needles and used condoms from the gutter into my trash bag. Jamal, who violated his parole because he had to go to New Jersey on a drug run, had some very kind remarks to make about my legs.
The second day was equally as fun. And by fun, I mean I had to be dragged back by Anoosh, kicking and screaming after spending the evening crying hysterically while curled up in the fetal position, chain smoking. I look forward to next weekend will giddy anticipation.
Today my ex co-worker died suddenly and unexpectedly.
Oh, and my aunt disowned my entire family last night.
Did I mention my grandfather died last week?
Yeah, so…. I’m kind of thinking I may need a small break from the pressures of working.
And the pressures of socializing.
And possibly from the pressures of brushing my teeth and wiping myself.
Posted by Carmela Machiato at 3:54 PM