I know from experience that there are many terrible situations and circumstances to be trapped in. I also know that two of the worst feelings in the entire world are: to be terribly afraid when you know you have done nothing wrong; and to be technically free, but feel like you are living a life in prison nevertheless. You have guessed correctly. I have felt those two feelings very, very often the past two years, and yesterday was no exception. Because I was personally harassed again, in a public park, no legitimate reason, by two cops.
I was sitting in our car by myself, and I certainly look like an adult, not a small child. However, I was busy with my daily duties, being in a public park or not. I looked up and I saw two policewomen in a police car staring at me…literally staring for a least a minute or two without moving. And they were parked right in front of our car. One of them I think I recognized, while the other reminded me of Animal Farm and how she had the face of a squashed pig. Anyway, one shrugged, and then they drove further away, hesitating. They finally left, but not half an hour had passed before another police car approached me…and its driver got out and headed right toward me. Remember, I was alone…my mom was not with me this time.
This police bozo was a guy, and do you know what he said to me? The same crap from before…he told me he had gotten a call from someone, saying that I looked “disoriented.” What? Come again? Disoriented? All right, let’s back up here…if someone truly called in and said I looked like I was literally walking in circles and not knowing where I was or looked sick, they would call an ambulance or something like that, wouldn’t they? Not the cops. Second, it is not a crime to sit in a car and distract yourself by reading books or even a nap…it is your legal right. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and I certainly wasn’t disoriented. What a word to use. Ugh. I generally have a passable sense of direction. The next thing he wanted was…you guessed right again. He wanted my ID. And my mom’s ID.
Okay, this was already beyond too far. Someone supposedly called about me…not my mom. He had no right to ask me for anything, let alone her. But when my mom saw him approach me alone, of course she came to my defense. She wanted to leave, but the bozo policeman threatened her with arrest. Hmmm…that seems to be the major gun in the arsenals of police officers (actual or pretend). Either they threaten and intimidate you with arrest, or they pull their guns on you. And what’s with their greeting of “How are you?” They “cut to the chase” pretty quick after spreading that phony line around, so why bother? Yes, I’m rolling my eyes right now.
Okay, we’re back to my story. To continue…he took my information, since I do not have an ID and I care less about inconsequential details. I wanted him to stop bothering my mom, you see. Anyway, he did, but he called up another cop to “help” him. He laughingly explained the situation to his friend (out of earshot, of course) and then this new policeman came up to us (we were both in the car by now) and asked us what we were doing in the park. Yeah, as if it were any of their business what we were doing in the park, so long as we weren’t breaking any rules (which we weren’t). They called about me being “disoriented,” not being in the park. I told him something, and they decided to leave us alone…after I told them that it was ironic about them “worrying” about my “disorientation”, when punks openly smoke marijuana in that park whenever they like. Of course, it didn’t end there…police officer #1 stayed in his car without moving in the park for more than an hour after his friend had left.
Now, I ask you…it was strange, wasn’t it, that if those first policewomen who came called up those other policemen to come about my “disorientation,” why didn’t they just get out and ask me about that nonsense in the first place, instead of calling up some other bozos when they were already there in the park? Second, if not them, than who? How did this all happen? There are always teenagers in that park, and no one has called about them being “disoriented” after they openly smoke the acrid fumes of some drug. Yeah, it leaves an after-smell…it’s disgusting.
Anyway, this is a mysterious story of my life…it’s recent, it’s up-to-date, and I hate it all very much. But that’s obvious, isn’t it?