Police Brutality In New York City

Yesterday was really hot and I haven't felt much like working lately, so I left work at about 2:30 and drove over to PS 95. I went to that particular school for three reasons: the girls are really cute, the neighborhood isn't so bad that I have to worry about my safety, and they have really poor air conditioning, which means that on a day like yesterday the girls come out all flushed and sweaty. Oh yeah, it's also a mostly Spanish neighborhood, and a lot of the girls dress like Guatemalan prostitutes.

The bells rang and I got to enjoy the show for about 10 minutes as they trickled out of the building in their skirts, and then some asshole administrator must have recognized my car or something, because a squad car pulled in right behind me and put its flashers on. The cops in the Bronx are kind of like the algorithms on Facebook or Instagram - they don't tell you what you did wrong, they just cancel your account (or take you to the precinct).

The normal procedure is to be charged and then proceed to central booking, but these cops saw I had priors and tried to get cute. They wanted to get an admission to make their bones in the highly-competitive (that's sarcasm, folks) world of the NYPD hierarchy. They asked me what I was doing parked in front of a junior high school for 20 minutes. I asked if I was under arrest, and if not, was I free to leave? They said I was not under arrest, but being detained for questioning, which is total BS. So I said I was birdwatching. And that pissed one cop off, and he started going on about how the moment they arrested me, this would hit the wire and go directly to my P.O. - like he would do anything. That motherfucker is lazier than a French gendarme.

I explained that the terms of my parole were vague, and according to my interpretation, they only specified that I couldn't go within 500 yards of PS 157 specifically and that other schools were not subject to restriction. They hate wiseasses, so I told them that it was a magnet school and my blood was abnormally high in iron. Then I explained that the concept of looking at something is really more passive than active, as images are projected onto your retina and I can hardly be faulted for others projecting their images at me.

So this one cop gets right in my face with the intimidation, yelling and such. He wants to know what I was doing there, and I was a dirty so-and-so, et cetera, so finally I told him that I went to law school in Michigan for two years before dropping out (which isn't true, I've only been to Michigan once, as a guest of the UM School of Medicine. That was like the first flight out of New York after 9/11). I explained that if they would like to charge me, I would mount a pro se defense and subpoena the police records, financial records and medical records of every cop in the room. You do have every right to do that, legally, just don't plan on continuing to live anywhere in New York State. They'll post two cops outside your house and you'll get a ticket for speeding while backing out of your driveway.

So anyway they let me go but not before I mysteriously banged my head about 7 times on some exposed ductwork in the hall. I hate those fuckin' crackers.

At least I didn't do the whole "I pay your salary" routine. They really hate that.

That's me