Monday, June 30, 1997 -- Avoidable detainment |
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| This journal was avoidably detained...as I catch up, you will be enlightened. |
Today, things caught up with me. I'm writing this on 'monday' or rather, Tuesday, but I havne't really slept. A couple of hours here and there, but nothing worth mentioning. Last night, I got pulled over because the registration on my car was overdue. And I'd let my license lapse. Both were paperwork problems. I'd gotten the registration stickers a day before I moved to the new apartment. I'm sure they're in this apartment...somewhere. The license was revoked, because (paperwork again) I didn't send in my epilepsy paperwork. In NC, if you have epilepsy, you have to send in medical paperwork that shows that you haven't had any seizures, and so on, and if you don't they revoke your license. I forgot. I don't even need to take medicine for the epilepsy anymore. It's effectively gone. And if I'd sent that paperwork in, I'd have gotten a ticket. And that would have been it They arrest you for driving while revoked. Handcuffs and everything. The thing is, I knew that. I knew my registration had gone out. I knew my license was revoked. I did it anyway. That's why I say, Things caught up with me. They drove me to jail, and left my car in an apartment complex, somewhere on Independence avenue. They drove me to the jail, in downtown Charlotte, booked me, fingerprinted me, took my picture. Around 10:30 I was in a holding cell with about 15 people on average. Most were subdued, but some were angry. A few were drunk. Most were poor. They took my keys, but that was it, so I had my calling card, and a long list of bail bondsmen The guards in the holding cell were decent people. They were polite to you, if you were polite to them. I guess they see enough 'normal' people that they have a better idea of humanity than some of the guards I dealt with later. The holding cell is a culling process. Rich people, or those with family, pass through it with ease, and out the other side, the poorer, people without contacts, get trapped inside. I say trapped, because that's how you feel. None of the resources that you can normally call on mean anything inside jail. We were all getting pretty hungry around midnight, while I was waiting for the bondsman to show up. There were these two inmates who were cleaning up the place. They were pretty chummy with the guards, and kept getting into arguments with Seth, a guy who had violated his parole. They had as part of their rounds the kitchen, and stole some crackers. Which they gave to to of the women in the holding cell. Bart, a black guy, who was more together than most of the people there, [I think he was the only other person with a white collar job besides me.] tried to buy some crackers from the inmates. They just laughed at him, and asked him what they thought they were going to do with money. I had just gotten paid, I had 400 dollars, my bond, in the bank, and absolutely no way of accessing it. The best I could hope for was to get a bondsman to take the cash i had, on promise of getting the rest as soon as i was out, and get out that way. It was fairly hopeless because most bondsman want to deal with an outside person, and the money they would make on me..only 60 dollars...wasn't worth the time and trouble. So, around midnight I broke down and called Dad. I really appreciate what he did for me, he stayed up all night, wired the money to a bondsman, who paid my bail, and only got one hour of sleep. I got slightly more, but not much. I talked to several people in the jail last night. First was Troy. Troy was an older...say mid 40's or 50's black man. I could tell by his clothes that he was a painter, or something like that. He walked around saying hello to everyone, smiling, and talking politely with the guards, who talked politely back. Troy had been stopped at a license check, and had a marijuana cigarette. He forgot to throw it out. He told me, "I'm in here because I was stupid. I'm not upset, and I know what I did. I'm going to take it one day at a time, and deal with things as they come happen." Whether or not this is the best wisdom in the world, I don't know. It's what I needed to hear. I, too, had been stupid. The only person to be mad at or upset with was myself. Troy's family came and got him out of jail. I hope he gets off. Then there were Axel and Rose. They were either married or not. They were pressing charges against each other. Axel was in there for "Assault on a Female", which carries no bond, and has a 48 hour required stay. I'm not sure what Axel had charged Rose with, but I'm sure it was something similar. Axel fell into the, "I didn't really do that" category. It might have been true. Axel and Rose were having a domestic dispute. As a sidenote, Axel left jail with me, on an unsecured bond. Which means, he left after less than 24 hours, without paying anything. Interesting. Then there was Gomez. I never figured out what he did. I'd bet it wasn't too bad, he was a basically nice guy, but clueless. Probably an illegal alien, or something like that. His bond was only a litle more than mine, so it couldn't have been too bad. We left at the same time, with Axel. They waived his bond, too. I've mentioned Bart, he was also accused of Assault on a Female. Only he did it. Or rather, he said he did. He is the reason why they have that 48-hour holding period. He was angry, and planning on doing it again. This, remember, is a guy who could work at the same company I do. I just thought to myself, "If I ever contemplate hitting anyone, I hope they take me away" Deputy Jones was the guard in the holding cell. Generally a pleasant fellow, he worked on a tit for tat system. That is, if you treat him nice, he treats you nice. If you treat him badly, the same applies. I walked up to him, and asked him a stupid question about how bonds work. He told me it wasn't stupid, told me what the bondsman would ask for, and how much, and smiled while he told me. Later that evening Kidd came in, drunk, underage, driving. He shouted at Deputy Jones what is my bond? Jones just told him to figure it out himself. He never did. At one point on the phone Kidd was swearing up a storm. Jones warned him, then hung the phone up, while Kidd was talking. Deputy Jones didn't take any crap. I liked and respected him, he represents a good kind of person. Around 4, Bart, Axel, Gomez and I were hustled into the main internment center. This is the point at which the guards stop caring. Why? I think it's because the people who make it there seem to fall into three basic categories. First, we have people like me, who screwed up, and have no one around. To the guards that reads: no one who cares. It wasn't true in my case, but no one bothered to ask. The second group are like Bart. They can't get out because what they did has not bond. That's a pretty serious point. Then there are the people like Gomez. Messed up, poor, out of their element, or repeat offenders. People who for the m ost part have given up. They can't get out, because their families can't afford it, or don't care anymore. Basically, a sorry lot of people. But they were people. That's what I learned. There seemed to be two basic crimes the people in that jail had committed. Stupidity, or Despair. Bart, Axel, and I had committed Stupidity. Stupidity is where you knowingly do something that endagers or harms some other person. It's stupid, because you know. I was Driving while license revoked. It's the state's right to control who can drive, for safety purposes. Because I hadn't done paperwork, I lost that privilidge. In the state's eyes, I was endagering the other people, so what they did is justified. Despair is a whole other ball of wax. Most of the crimes committed by the Despair faction were things like possession, drug related things. Often compounded by lashing out at the arresting officer. People in despair lash out. This is a real problem. I need to think a lot about it, because there is something wrong with a society that allows despair, especially one that makes the despair worse through it's laws. Sometime around 8, my bond was posted. Since I'd moved back into the jail, the speed my bond was worked on was an order of magnitude slower than if I hadn't been moved. I got out, alongside Axel and Gomez around 3. I rode the bus home, and contemplated my day, and what I was going to do. First and foremost..sleep.
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