A Night Out On the Town Another Installment of The Great Adventures of Kalifornia Dave Apr. 6th, 2008

     The Great Adventures of Kalifornia Dave
    "A Night Out on the Town"
    November 28, 1996

    A journey began last night for two young men in search of something no person has ever found.  My dearest friend Steve and I left our community of drunken friends to go have an awesome night out on the town.  We started the evening off in search of a party.  In return, we gathered enough information to set ourselves straight for the rest of our natural born lives.
    It was an unusual Friday night.  There were no parties this evening, and it was the middle of Summer.  This has never happened before in my entire life.  Steve and I decided to get some beer.  By doing this, we were able to invite a couple people over to party.  These people slowly dissipated as the night progressed.  Thus, we were again in search of another party.  The phone rang and we heard of two get-togethers that we were going to check out.  The first party had just broken up so we decided to go to the other.  When we arrived it was 1:00 in the morning.  The hostess invited us in with open arms.  Steve and I gladly accepted the invitation and proceeded to party yet again.  The scene was comfortable at first, but around 4 o’clock it died out.  So we decided to get some burritos and take it from there.  After the tasty midnight snack, it was now 5 am.  I brought forth a notion to proceed to downtown Chicago for some heroin.  Steve had wanted to go home, but I talked him into going along for the ride.  I mean, I was staying at his house for the weekend, and it is much easier for him to go along for the ride.  I just needed someone to keep me company, since the ride takes about a half hour.
    We decided to take the 290 east to Chicago.  Earlier Steve put four beers aside.  So he cracked a beer and quit complaining.
    "I shouldn’t be driving!"  I thought to myself.
    The road was everywhere that I was NOT looking.  We arrived at Mozart and Washington avenues on the city’s West Side.  The sun had already began to rise.  I found a spot, pulled over the car and parked.
    Steve was fast asleep in the car, so I left it running.  Little did I know, I was not going to see my car for a long time.  I went to the building and asked for a "blo."  He called upstairs and they said, "hold on."  A few minutes passed and they yelled down again.
    "We all out."  The guy yelled down from two floors up.
    Disappointed, I started to walk back to my car.  I figured I would just go back to Steve’s and sleep off the alcohol.  It was a bad idea travel 30 miles for one bag of dope in the first place.  Just sitting here sober thinking about it tells me how crazy my life was becoming at the young age of 21.  A bum asked me for a dollar on my way back to my car, and I realized I could give it to him, since I had else to use it for at that moment.  As I gave him the dollar, a squad pulled up.  Everyone scattered but me.  Stupidity or pure genius, you decide.  Two cops jumped out to talk to me.
    The one officer yells, "Place your hands on the trunk of the car."
    Knowing I was busted I followed his order.  The other officer grabbed my Jarrito Soda bottle and threw it in the lawn behind me.  Then they grabbed my wallet and began to search it for an I.D.  The one officer who the threw the bottle began to search me for any contraband possibly concealed on my persons.  I guess it was too bad that they were a few seconds too early or late depending on how you look at it.
    The cop who was talking to me, asks, "What are you doing in this black neighborhood at 5:30 in the morning on a Saturday?"
    Then I answer, "I have a few friends that live down here, sir."
    Not believing my answer, he started to get a little frustrated and again asks another question.  "Why do you have a lawyer’s business card in your wallet?"
    "Just in case I am ever arrested, he is the first person I am going to call."  I replied.
    This pissed him off.  "So how did you get here?"  He asked.
    "I walked from the train station and decided to stop here on my way home."  I replied.
    If I told them I drove then they could impound my car and Steve could also have gotten arrested.  You never know what can happen at the city impound.  In the event there is damage to your car, do you really think the city will be held responsible?  I think not!  So it was not in my interests to tell the truth.
    Knowing I was lying he then looked around for any drugs I might have thrown.  Unsuccessful in his search, he then handcuffed me and put me into the back of the squad car.
    Then I asked, "What are you charging with me?"
    He said, "Disorderly conduct."
    Now this was turning into a masquarade.  I looked at the other officer and nicely asked, "Could you please pick up that bottle and throw it away, because I do not like to litter?"
    "SHUT UP!"  That is what he yelled back at me.  I guess my hippie-ness at the time was not very appealing to him.
    I was pushed all the way into the car and the door slammed shut behind me.  They drove me to the station, which was three to four blocks away on Harrison and Kedzie.  When we arrived, they filed the paperwork and off to the pokey I went.
    The cop who had everything to say to me happened to be finished with his shift right after we arrived at the station.  Maybe I pissed him off because I made him work overtime.  Either way, he copped out of the problem he created.  I, on the other hand, still had a long journey to travel before I finished my day.  Irony hits you in the head when you’re in tight bind or handcuffs.  Whichever hurts more.  The quiet cop escorted me to lock up, where my first time in jail was about to get serious.
    No matter what the situation, I seem to always laugh away my problems.  This time I couldn’t remove the smile, even if I had no lips or teeth.  I tried to make amends with the cop, but he treated me like I just killed his mother.  Whatever I said to him, he just couldn’t look at me like the human being I was.  The funny thing is we all have something wrong, I just got caught.  The only thing separating him from me happened to be a badge and a gun.  Even when he left me with the lock-up crew, no words were spoken except mine.
    "Later man."  I exclaimed.
    There wasn’t a reply and Officer Hadlik turned around and walked out of the detainment area.  He went back to his rough career of keeping the streets safe from criminals like me.
    Now my new found friends in the lock-up loved my awesome personality.  As a matter of fact, they loved me so much, they called me, "Perry Mason."  This, of course, was from my vast knowledge of the law and my rights.  A couple years of high school law will do that to a man.  The new crew who got to process me consisted of three African-Americans with some major attitude.
    They asked me to remove my jewelry, wallet, and hat.  They told me to place all my belongings into a medium sized, plastic pouch.  Everything was placed there except my cash, hat, nipple and tongue rings.  They agains searched me for drugs and weapons.
    "So, can I make my phone call?"  I asked.
    The really big guy answered, "Yeah, you had better get $100.00, or you are staying here for at least 24 hours.  We got to wait for your fingerprints to clear.  It takes 24 hours unless you make bail.  Get my drift?"
    Yeah I understood that perfectly, harassment city is how I saw it.  Well, this was really going in my favor now.  I called my mom and no one answered the phone.  I was now thinking that I was shit out of luck and then some.  After I finished my call then they took my fingerprints and my mugshots.  I really was surprised, I had no idea that criminals get to just touch a computer pad.  This is rather convenient, all you criminals can understand why.  That’s right, no messy ink to wipe off your hands.  Modern science working in our favor.
    The mug shots also were computer digitized.  Tehy would take your picture then transfer them to a computer screen.  Here they were able to turn my body around every which way with only a few photos.  Again, I still think I had the upper hand.  Luckily, I happened to be wearing my Bugs Bunny shirt, which will always show my views on marijuana and hemp.  If you are not familiar with this Disney product line, let me fill you in.  Bugs is smoking on a nice fatty with his Rastafarian getup.  So everytime a police officer brings up my file, and looks at my pictures they’ll see my beautiful marijuana shirt and my huge smile.
    After the escapade, I asked, "Could I get copies, possibly in color, maybe 8x10’s?"
    They didn’t like this question, and I was told to shut up.  Oh well, at least they gave me another phone call.  Strongly urging me to get the money for bail.
    "You just better get that money or you better get used to the oountry club."  One of the cop’s said.
    Finally my brother answered the phone.  You’ve got to remember it was now only 6:30 AM in the morning on a Saturday.  Nobody I know is even coherent til around noon.  I guess I lucked out.  I told my mom all about my problem after my brother put her on the phone.
    First thing she asked, "Where’s my car?"
    Of all things, not even caring if I was alright.  I’m just kidding, she actually did care.  She cared about how much it was going to cost her to get me out of jail.  Now that my mom was on her way I couldn’t be happier.  After the phone call, it was time for me to go to my jail cell.  I tried to put my money in my personal belongings pouch.  Instead my good friend, the detainment officer, made a wonderful comment.
    "Keep your money.  You just better put it somewhere safe."  He chuckled.
    "Great, first I’m in jail and now I’m going to jail with money in my pocket.  This just couldn’t be any better."  I exclaimed.
    As I looked into my new dwelling place, this feeling overcame me that I have never had before.  I later figured out it was ’boredom’.  I walked in and sat my ass down on the only open spot on the floor.  There eight guys in there.  By the way, they were all colored.  This doesn’t bother me, but the thought of they neighborhood I grew up in, did.  It turned out alright.  They were all there for disorderly conduct also.  Can you believe that?  Everyone of us, arrested for the same thing.  Coincidence, I don’t think so!  Corruption is what I call it.
    I fell asleep for a few hours.  I awoke to the slamming of the cell doors.  Two guys were released.  I dozed off again and when I opened my eyes, no one was around.  Now, it got really bad.  I wasn’t tired anymore, and I wasn’t even drunk.  I just laid there for what seemed like hours.  I just kept praying over and over again.
    "Please God, if you get me out of here soon, I promise I will never come down here to buy drugs.  I will never return!"
    It started to become a chant.  Then lunch was served.  A huge tray of bologna sandwiches.  Oh man, they looked so disgusting.  I still believe the meat must’ve been out for days.  I decided to starve myself and passed on the main course.  Then it happened!
    "Hey, Perry.  It’s time for you to get out of here."  An officer yelled.
    "That’s funny, I was just getting comfortable.  Ah hell, thanks for the vacation."  I retorted.
    "Yeah, yeah, and let me guess, you’re never going to come visit us anymore?"  He asked sarcastically.
    "Damn right!  I’m not.  I always said when I got busted for the first time it would also be my last."  I replied.
    He quickly remarked, "Yeah, I have heard it all before."
    What he didn’t know was, I was serious.  It happened to be a promise I made to myself a long time ago when I started doing drugs.  This was an alarm system for myself.  There would be no way for me to keep going down to the spot.  I always knew you have to get caught sometime.
    At the front desk, I signed my bond and seen my parents.  This was a sight for sore eyes.  The worst news all day was just about to come.
    "Kenneth, Steve was carjacked while you were in jail!."  My mother told me.
    My jaw almost hit the floor.  I looked at the front desk cop, "What do you say you put me back in jail?"
    I mean that would probably be the only safe place from my mother.  Now I knew I was in worse trouble than just sitting in jail.
    "No, I think your parents have better plans for you."  He replied.
    We left after that, and they lectured me the whole way home.  The only good that came out of this whole ordeal was Steve and I made it home safe and unharmed.  Of course after I got home I was pretty close to being harmed.  Mom tried to get her hands around my neck, but just like the police, she was too slow.  In the end, I always get away.
    The car was found three weeks later.  They arrested the guy and all my charges were dropped in court.  What a happy ending for a fairy tale.
    I would like to say two more things.  "I was never read my rights throughout the whole ordeal.  I feel disrespected as an American!"  Second, I think cops are criminals.  Using the badge to break the laws they were sworn to protect.  I’m not much different or better, but at least I want to make a difference not a problem while enjoying my life here on this beautiful Earth.


Update April 6th, 2008.
"I wrote this story shortly after all this happened.  I have the details of Steve’s ordeal and what he went through, which is really hilarious compared to my on-goings.  Anyway, there are some typo’s and sentence structure that could use some editing, but I just copied this exactly how I wrote it.  On top of all that, I was very nieve back then, and I did see the those cinder blocks many times after I wrote this story.  I also visited the West Side many times also, which means that I never kept my promise to God, myself, or anyone else for that matter.  That is the point of The Great Adventures of Kalifornia Dave, some of the stories are funny but the underlying concept is what life is and what I should be doing with it.  I don’t think ALL Cops are criminals anymore, but I still believe that 70% of them are!  I am a man of reform, and we cannot reform a broken justice system until we remove the bad elements from within the system.  Then maybe we can fix those who enter that system!  Prison and Justice Reform are my top priorities when I run for the Senate or House!  I shall write Steve’s story another day.  This was just another day in the life a man named, Kalifornia Dave!!!"

Thanks,
Kenny