Tour of Duty: Stories and Provocation
Page 36
About 10, some fool who had smuggled marijuana and matches in past their search lit up. The guards made no attempt to find out who, they simply shut off the phones again. People who had been brought in at the same time I had, just now getting up to the cell after twenty-four hours, came in and had no way to call.
They still no way to call when I left at midnight.
My name was called on a roster, and I was first at the bars, having moved my mattress to a front bunk during an earlier lull. I lied and said I didn’t have a mattress, so someone else would have the use of it. The irony of me lying to a guard to give a prisoner something he needed and decency said he was entitled to was rather bitter.
We were marched downstairs, lined up, processed out in 10 minutes. I was never actually told that my charges were dropped. We weren’t actually told we were being processed out until another prisoner asked and was answered.
They opened the locked steel door, told me to go up to the first floor and through the door there. I did so, and was in the lobby of the police department. No warning, no nothing. Through that door and out of our hair, you. To be fair, the guards on this last leg were fairly decent, probably because they knew we were innocent.
Conclusion
Consider that about half of those arrested will have the charges dropped. Consider that two thirds of the remainder will be acquitted. That means that five sixths of the incarcerees, more than eighty percent, are innocent. Of the remainder, most are only being held for minor or nonviolent charges, such as Public Intoxication or Driving Without a License. Yet these thugs treat each and every one of them, preemptively, as they would a murderer or rapist.
They planned to leave me in an extra day, to “teach me a lesson.” They held me incommunicado, causing suffering for my family, to “teach me a lesson.” Despite my cooperation, flawless manners and calm demeanor, they harassed me and threatened me, to “teach me a lesson.”
Lesson learned, COs (Correction Officers). I have learned that you are petty, gutless Fascists who are so pitiful as to find solace for your own wretched lives in bullying people with problems, helpless to resist you, until they turn into caged animals for your amusement. I have learned that on the evolutionary ladder, you rank somewhere between child molesters and the bacteria that thrive in septic tanks. I have learned that if I am ever called as a juror for a criminal accused of beating one of you within an inch of your worthless life, I’ll need to see some VERY convincing evidence before I’ll convict him.
How’s that for a lesson learned?
Afterword
Nothing ever came of any police investigation, as they didn't really do one. About a month later, in response to a written complaint, the watch commander came out, and we talked a few minutes. He apologized briefly, though I don't think he had many options available for correcting the problem. I've had both positive and negative experiences with IPD, and it seems the only positive experiences were when I was the business owner, not a supplicating private citizen.
I still live in the area, but I'm unlikely to move back into Indy proper, and the police are certainly part of the reason.
Inappropriate Cocktails
Believe it or not, I sometimes do things just to mess with people, and see how they react. Let me mix you a drink and I’ll tell you all about it . . .
First came the Scots, who kept the Sabbath...and anything else we could bloody well get our hands on.
Then came the Welsh, who prayed on their knees on Sunday, and preyed on their neighbors the rest of the week.
Next came the Irish, who had no idea what they wanted, but were willing to fight to the death for it anyway.
Last of all came the English, claiming to be a self-made people, thereby demonstrating the horrors of unskilled labor, and relieving the Almighty of a DREADFUL responsibility.
The Challenger
2 oz Vodka with tang powder
In memory of the astronauts.
Drink seven of these and you’ll explode.
The Hubble Space Cocktail
3 oz Cuervo 1800
2 oz peach schnapps
2 oz orange juice
2 oz lemonade
Place on a coaster made of sandpaper
It’s very expensive, served in a hand-polished glass,
and when you’re finished, everything looks fuzzy.
Bonus points for freezing flat, lens-shaped ice.
The Hurricane Katrina
1 oz white rum
1 oz Jamaican dark rum
1 oz 151 rum
3 oz orange juice
3 oz unsweetened pineapple juice
1/2 oz grenadine syrup
Stir until frothy
Serve over crushed ice
Sprinkle shredded fruit and chocolate
on top of the icy froth for debris.
Fukushima # 1
3 oz melon liqueur
1 oz orange liqueur
1 oz lime juice
This base drink is called a
“Japanese Slipper.”
Add two shots of vodka.
Shake vigorously for six minutes
Pour as four big splashing dollops
Sprinkle shredded fruit and chocolate debris across the froth
Drop a 2” lightstick into the bottom for a cheery glow.
The Princess Di
1 oz Vodka
4 oz Orange juice
½ oz Galliano floated on top
Serve on the rocks
2 shot glasses of French brandy
A Harvey Wallbanger with a couple of chasers.
(This goes very well with a Paparazzi Pizza.)
It will give you tunnel vision, and if you drink two,
you’ll look back and turn into a pillar of concrete.
The Black Klansman
3 oz Kahlua
Float 2 oz 151 proof rum
Delicately create a cross in heavy or whipped cream
Light the rum
It should be served in a glass at least 8” tall
Place on a napkin with eye holes cut in it.
The Chappaquiddick
2 oz Irish whiskey
A splash of water
Serve in a glass with a toy car at bottom.
You can’t tell anyone you drank it until after noon the next day.
The Osama bin Laden
2 shots of Maker’s Mark
A splash of water
This will really make you feel light-headed.
The Baby Seal
Two shots of Canadian Club
Club Soda
Serve on the rocks.
Pour a pile of fluffy white coconut shavings.
Pour Grenadine into the shavings.
Serve with a wooden stirring stick.
Dealey Plaza
Three shots of Irish
One shot of Amaretto
Flaming Penguin
A wedge of pineapple
Solid block of ice
Kahlua
Cream
151 rum, ronrico preferred
Light
The Whitney Houston
3 oz Rum
2 oz Kahlua
1 teaspoon Brown sugar
Coke
Cracked ice.
End
Table of Contents
Dedication
How I Got This Job
TOUR OF DUTY: STORIES
The Humans Call it Duty
Time in The Freehold Universe
The Brute Force Approach
The Price
Desert Blues
One Night in Baghdad
Port Call
Naught But Duty
The Sword Dancer
Wounded Bird
The Groom’s Price
The Bride’s Task
Heads You Lose
A Hard Day At The Office
Misfits
TOUR OF DUTY: PROVOCATIONS
April Fool
Crazy Einar
So You Are
Going To Be Raided By ViKings
Random Maunderings About The Celtic Peoples
THE MANLY WAY TO COOK MEAT
The Ten Manliest Firearms
Ten More Manly Firearms
The Mosin Nagant
On Reparations Generally, For The Descendents Of People Long Departed
My True Encounters With The Indianapolis Police Department
Inappropriate Cocktails