The thing was only a thousand times smaller than me. A baby spider, probably only a few days old, probably not even spun it’s first web, when my doom book, “bug judge” wiped it from life as an occupant of my bedroom floor.
It’s that easy.
It’s that easy.
Think about that in all its simplicity.
It’s that easy to break the law.
And when you are paralytic, it’s that easy to get arrested.
It was Mosh day yesterday so of course we were getting drunk. I don’t know if it was my intention to drink 800ml of pure vodka, but it was my destiny. On refusal of entry to Mosh, I went home. I was after all drunk, and so fair game to the bouncers they’re doing their job.
But that didn’t happen.
What did was that I went to the wrong house, in my drunkenness, tried to get in, first via key and then via bangs. None of which I remember. As neither do I remember falling into, ripping off or otherwise causing the detachment of one of a neighbours wing mirrors.
So the police arrived.
The next clear memory I have is being in the back of a police car asking the driver, a police lady, “Have I been arrested”. The affirmative reply took some time to sink in, I was stunned, unable to believe it or to understand what I had done, my memory seemed to have forgotten the banging and mirror incident. I was too drunk to be properly interviewed about any of the events.
So I got arrested.
I remember next having my fingerprints and a swab from my mouth being taken, my possessions: keys, cards and cash, taken away. Also parted from me was my coat, soggy and heavy with rain taken from me, even my shoes. Throughout all this I was polite. Despite the fact that I had been taken to the police station, arrested and in some serious trouble, I still respect the officers for the work they do in general.
The cell was concrete walls, bigger than my bedroom, but without anything homely at all. They gave me a blanket to put over me as I lay on my blue mattress, glued to the bed which was only 6 inches off the floor. The room had a sink (press button for cold water), a toilet (press button for water) and an intercom (press button for assistance). How I slept I don’t know, but I may have been ill indeed.
I awoke with the awful feeling that yes, it wasn’t a nightmare. I was still in the cell, daylight was too. I spent probably an hour or so thinking should I press the intercom button.
“Hi I'm in cell, err actually I don’t know, but when can I go”
“Hello there, I'm sober now, may I go”
“Three questions: One, where am I? Two, when can I go? Three, what time is it”
Eventually I pressed and asked “Hello, what time is it and when can I go?”
It was 10.45 and she would see.
I sat down and waited, there is little to do in a concrete box.
Would I be here for another night, a day, a week?
After an hour I was interviewed.
It was a brief affair. The officer had three tapes. One for police records, one for my lawyer, and one that would be sealed and only opened in “court”. If things went that far, he explained. He said it wouldn’t take long, and hopefully I’d be on my way shortly. Being taped giving an interview is one of the things I will remember for a long time. He did the “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence to omit something which you later rely on in court”.
The C word, oh shit.
In the interview, I basically stated that I was too drunk to remember doing the damage to the car. The serious accusation backed by two witnesses who thought I may have been trying to get inside to sleep, or worse. I countered by saying that there was no point entering the vehicle as I was on my home street. He held up “exhibit A; a large envelope containing a wing mirror of a car.
If, taken humorously, I’d love to have that image on my picture collection for friends to see. But this was not a situation to be made light of, at all.
After the interview, the Officer said he was disappointed I couldn’t remember doing the act, or admitting it, as that would almost certainly have led to a caution, which is basically a slap on the wrist and don’t do it again.
I would now either probably be bailed, which meant I would have to return, face charges and go to court, perhaps even prison if I didn’t pay, or be cautioned anyway. I had admitted the probability that I had done it, but not the actual event of doing so, which I couldn’t remember. In being honest, I had potentially landed myself in very hot water, as now the event was disputable, and court was likely. He said he would speak to the sergeant and see what needed to be done, in the meantime I was returned to my cell.
I was offered and accepted food, but the all day breakfast, was only as glamorous as the tin can it came out of, which I don’t think was very glamorous at all.
The wait continued, but eventually the officer returned. I would be cautioned as they believe there was basically enough evidence to say that I had committed the act. I was given the choice of signing my caution papers, to say I accept what the officer said, or not to sign and to take the matter to court. If proved guilty i would recieve a criminal record and a world of shit would follow. You can guess what I did I'm sure.
So the walk home began, I was offered a lift, but declined it. I wanted the fresh air. I wanted the freedom to reach as far into my lungs, veins and organs as possible. I was so very lucky. So the trick is, not to argue if you think it’s probably your fault, but to lie and say yes you did it. Remember that kids if you ever go to jail.
I thank all those who, spent last night worrying about me, rightly so. I don’t thank you for saying “You f-ck-ng legend!” and giving me a sort of “well done!” It’s not smart, big or clever to be drunk, and like the interviewer said “being drunk is not a defence”
