How to Snitch or Arrested in Addison

How to Snitch or Arrested in Addison


3 Jul

On June 16 I was arrested for resisting arrest. Its not really a funny situation, because anyone witnessing could see that I followed every direction given to a T.

The night started okay. My cousin sent an invite to a local stripper club, so a coworker and I made the excursion after the work day ended. If you don’t know, I hate strippers. Usually, you go to a strip club and there is really only one girl worth looking at nude. The rest are just naked with a little ass. That night at the venue was nothing but what I expected. Bad conversation, overpriced drinks, and bitches with attitudes. Truth is I didn’t want to go, but when you get a free invite to a club, you don’t pass it up for the Xbox. After a few crown and cokes, I bid adieu and gathered myself for the journey home.

If I would have gone straight home, I wouldn’t be writing about this now. Instead, my buddy convinced me to go bar hopping in Addison.

I don’t do Addison. Its played out. Its like a wanna be strip that just don’t get it poppin. The clubs are known for being anti Black (example: one place kicked out a dreadlocked dj we all know because his “sleeves were too long” -ironic for a place called Black Finn). Really since Carsons Live shut down, there’s been no point to drive north of Spring Valley to party.

But that all didn’t matter that night.

If I could tell you the names of the places we went in, it might make the story more real. Just know that my buddy doesn’t get drunk. She drinks. She just doesn’t lose her functioning ability. I guess she is a functioning alcoholic at times :) I on the other hand fill up quicker than a gas tank.

We stopped in some place that served sushi. The DJ called security on me, because I told him to stop playing loud as music with nobody on the floor. This is why Asians don’t belong in hip hop. Too sensitive to their “art”. After informing security that I was merely getting a massive headache, I finished my drinks and left. From there, we landed at some place bumping Top 40 rap from 5 years ago, which doesn’t sound bad, until you realize that means J-Kwon and Dipset back to back. I don’t mean that good Dipset. I’m talking “Hey Ma”. From there we went to a straight sausage fest of a reggae club at the top of Addison road. My buddy loved the way all my black african niggas flocked to her or made their way her way when she walked in. Tits will do that sort of a thing. As for me, I posted in the back by a speaker, hoping to sober up from the load pumping rhythm and breeze from a fan cooling the wires from the DJ booth. Can you believe no girls were in their dancing? Not even one Dutty Wine.

When we left the club, it was such a downer, we both knew the night was coming to an end. It was a must that it be ended. As I exited the club, I felt the urge to piss. As a man, I will always look for a bathroom. As a drunk man, I do not look for long. I strutted through the parking lot, no, staggered through the parking as I let it go. Its not the first time I’ve taken a piss in public and it surely will not be my last. As I relieved myself, my focus turned away from the urine pressing into my bladder and back to reality. I looked up from my cock and the ground to see a police officer staring at me. I was sure he was staring at my cock, because we made eye contact, and his look was one of embarrassment, as if he’d been caught. I immediately tucked it in, so fast in fact that I trickled a bit on myself. The officer waved me towards him and I expected to be arrested for public intoxication. My cousin paid that fine before. I knew I could afford it, but didn’t want to get arrested of course.

As I approached the driver side of the patrol car, I plead to let me go with a warning. I was immediately regretful and would have been okay with a ticket. I explained to him, Officer Douthit, that my car was a foot away and told him that I had a designated driver (even though she was drunk as shit too). And you know what, he let me go.

For about 1.4 seconds. I am not sure what changed his mind, but the second I turned to walk away, he hopped out of the car and told me stop moving. You just told me to go home I said. He ignored it, as if he didn’t know what I meant. What did I do I asked because you just told me to go home I said. By now he was turning my back to handcuff me. This is some bullshit I said.

I have never received a warning from a cop. I’ve never been stopped and not harassed or hassled. This would’ve been a nice first. Knowing I had a warrant or two in Plano (traffic shit – to learn more, search this site for: Fuck Plano), I tossed my keys at my buddy so she could at least get home and sleep. I guess that pissed him off. He took me to the ground by kneeing me across the side of my knee. With his body on top of me and my hands cuffed behind me, my head hit the pavement immediately. If it weren’t for my heavy brow, I am sure I would have been knocked cold. I lay on the ground beneath him as he pressed his knee into the back of my legs and his elbow into the small of my back. His partner moved in and he yelled for him to block my car into the lot.

If I wass resisting arrest, I’d have easily lifted the smaller guy from my back, but I wasn’t. I lay on the ground, screaming “I’m not resisting” over and over to draw more attention to the extreme force he continued to use.

It became evident that I wasn’t stuggling I guess, or maybe he realized he overreacted, because he and his partner lifted me to the ground and attempted to take it from the top (you know, ask for I’d first and explain the line of questioning,- you know, like they do with white people). I volunteered the information about my warrant in Plano. I expected to be booked on that anyhow, but definitely didn’t expect to get abused before hand.

To make matters worse, the officer turns into a total dick, antagonizing me, accusing me of drug use, because I am not able to walk. Well I say If it weren’t for that illegal take down, I might be able to stand. It doesn’t stop there. Nope. He harasses me into the backseat of the wagon. He harasses me while en route, asking again what drugs I am on (for the record, I didn’t even have my nightly smoke). When I complain of a spinning in my head and say I need medical attention, he scoffs at my request, mumbling shit under his breath about my manhood. Real men don’t wear badges I shouldve said. But I had a migraine and my wit wasn’t on point.

After a detour to Texas Presbyterian in Plano (fuck Plano) it was time to go to the Addison jail. Instead of spending a night in a drunk tank at worse, I was booked for resisting arrest and held for bond.

I don’t mind that I had to pay Plano or else. One day, Plano will fall and I will smile. I definitely wasn’t ready to pay them yet though. And I don’t even mind losing a night in bed. If you are caught for public intoxication and the cop wants to waste the time and gas, that’s worth it too. But the caveat arrives from the bullshit charge.

This is why I hate police:

You are trained to protect and serve. In this situation, as it has happened before, the police officer stopped me to protect nothing and serve nothing. Because I am black, they immediately accost me with excessive force and rude inquiry. Because I am black they violate all training protocol because when threatened, police are allowed to react with excessive force. Well it seems to me that every white officer I have ever come across feels threatened before I say a word, because immediately, their behavior is rude and insulting. How often does the average white guy have a gun pulled on him by a police officer? Why should I accept this behavior simply because I am black and they are trained to overreact to what is obviously a innate fear / hate of black people? Nope. Never again.

By Monday, the charges were dropped. The DA knows he can prosecute resisting arrest if I never ran or fought back. The sergeant, Sergeant Allen, who called to let me know he wouldn’t send it to Dallas County, knew the case was bad. And even the police officer, Boy Douthit, knew this case wasn’t bout shit. But he also knew the power he had. By exaggerating my arrest, he could definitely fuck my weekend over. I am blessed that my friend, Randa, was able to help with my bail. With an ATM card full of cash, I would’ve spent the weekend in jail without her since they won’t let you pay your own bond. I would have missed work, facing possible disciplinary action for sure. I would have spent at least 3 months making court appearances before pleading (because lawyers charge 5K to beat misdemeanors) or having the charges dropped. Some people might be okay with that, but for me, if a police officer is willing to lie and fabricate an arrest because they can and it is is sanctioned in this legal system, somebody gotta do something.

Powerless to handle it any other way, I snitched. For the first time in my life I signed the affidavit. I filled out every fucking page from corner to corner. I know they not gone do shit. I know it won’t stop the next cop from harassing the next good black guy, but at least it’ll fuck up the silly officers record. Lord knows if we were in the MMA ring, I’d murder him. As it stands, this is all I could do to save my dignity as a man.

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