Casey Goes to Jail

Editor's Note: This was written by my friend Casey. Everything you see here is most likely true. Also, Casey is totally fucked. Kids, if you want to be on usian.org, don't go driving around drunk to do it. Thank you.

Right. So once upon a time and all that I got arrested. It wasn't as fun as I thought it would be. The drama of the firld sobriety test. The exciting car chase that preceded the arrest. The manhunt accross 3 states and a body count that would make Manson look like the Easter Bunny. Nope nothing like that. that it was was a huge embarrassing story that i'm about to relate to you now.

I went to the Local Bar some time Friday the 13th of October. I dunno what time it was but it was dark out and my friends had already had a few to drink. Being Radio'd by EarthLink people is an odd occurance. Probably one better suited for a different story, but it's like "BEEP BEEP" from your weird little black thing on your belt near your hip and then some one talking to you. After a couple "BEEP"'s I kinda got the idea that I was supposed to go to Vic's (Local Bar).

Now you get a Buncha Eathlink people in one place is always bad news . It's always better to mix it up. A buncha EarthLink people and a few random drunk friends always makes for much more fun. Unfortunatly everyone I knew there was an EarthLinker complete with matching Bellsouth pagers and those damn nextels. Taking a seat next to my Friend Candie who "BEEP BEEP"'d me in the first place I commence what's known as the kc "Taking Stock of What's Happening" phase of kc "Getting Out of his Apt". There are much more phases but this is the first in a Bar scene with EarthLinkers. This involves kc looking around at the people and guessing a few things. A) who's drunk, B) who's not, C) who's there, D) who's not. It's just something I do. In my hazy recollection I see a buncha flashing nextels and beer bottles. I see Candie, Legal guy, Portman, Berto and miller. Maybe a couple other people. The next thing I do is find out where the beer is.

Beer. I tell ya the Irish have perfected the purpose of beer. They make Bass. I just happen to love Bass and Vic's sells Bass. I'm happy man. The drinking commences. Legal guy making jokes. Bill shows up and somehow other people show up. At this point I've lost that memory of who/when showed up. I remember it was a fun night. Legal guy cracking jokes. Miller playing darts with Alf. Portman has this odd tendancy of cleaning the table when there's a lot of bottles on it. Strange behavior indeed for a young man, to counteract tho portman refuses to ash his cigarettes in an ashtray and prefers to ash on the carpet.

Sometime some young ladies showed up and hung out. They left. Some time Bill left with legal guy. Came back. Legal guy started dipping Candies business cards in her Capt'n Morgan n Coke. Some guy named Jeff started yelling with Bill. Now this Jeff character (believe me i'm so happy I didn't get locked up with this drunk) he's got a knack for voices and apparently felt comfortable with shouting his "SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY" voice across the bar. Bill started chiming in. By this time I was far more toasted than I think I knew. I'm very certain of that. Somehow Bill bought a round of Jagermeister shots for all. I wanted a Kamikaze as those are shot's I know. Jagermeister tastes like cough syrup and black licorice. I eventually had the Jagermeister shot as I really don't mind it so much. Shortly after that, Candie left to give miller a ride to his car. Portman and alf had left long ago. Since it was down to Bill and Legal Guy and kc, we decided to take off to Bill's and hang out.

Now this is where things get exciting/extremely fuzzy. I remember leaving. I remember saying, "Chris lemme follow you cause I dunno how to get to Bill's" Bill lives about 3 blocks away. I get lost everywhere. If you know me you know I get lost going tothe bathroom. So I get the idea that i'mma follow Legal Guy. The exit form Vic's is kinda strange as it sits on the one way side of a busy street. Since the parking spots all face towards the exit that involves an alley that's how we leave.

Trying to follow chris was out of my mind. By the time I hit the first left in the alley I was driving like Pirelli. By the time I was on the streets again I was thinking I was in a juiced up Honda and I was gonna break the sound barrier. The idea of following chris was long gone and gettingto bill's a distant memory. I just knew I'mma haul ass and make a left on rosemead and blaze a trail up to where I think I was going. The whole ride was a blur. Ending in a screech of wheels, the smell of tortured rubber and clutch and a sudden jerk as I smashed into the side of one car and the front end of another. I think. I remember trying to start the car again. I remember it not starting. I remember someone yelling at me to get out of the car. I get out of the car. I lean next to it and someone yelling, "just stay there for the cop's to show up." Soem one to the left of me was taking pictures of the accident liek a madman. Legal Guy strolls up a few feet from me and said, "what happened dude?" I remember that clearly. I remember being very angry. I don't really know what/who I was angry at. I remember telling Legal Guy in my slurred voice (yet my brain recalls this clearly) telling legal guy to "get the fuck outta here man. The cops are coming I'm drunk and you really don't want any part of this trouble." I think legal guy was confused. I reiterated, "dude go. get outta here." He strolled along. For some reason I was releaved. Looking back I think I was just . . . well I dunno.

The cops showed up very fast. Maybe not but it was like instantaneous to me. Officer Herrera was the first on the scene. Pretty average cop. All business. Didn't like my jokes. Didn't like me. He asked me to stand accross the street. I stand there for a few minutes and he comes over to me. Tells me to empty my pockets and searches me quickly for anything illegal. He tells me i'm under suspicion for driving while intoxicated. Herrera asked me the standard question, "how much have you had to drink?" I respond with a very slurred, "a couple beers." I don't think he believed me. Go fig.

Officer Herrera told me we're gonna do the field sobriety test. Now this ladies and gentlemen is the very sad part where kc figures out he's really really drunk and has to quickly figure out a way to act sober. Acting sober when yo're toasted and just got into an accident isn't as easy and one might think. In fact it's quite hard. The battery of tests are quite simple and are mostly balance orientated. Standing straight with feet side by side and head back eyes closed and counting to 30. Walkingthe dreaded straight line. Follow the pen. Stand and keep your foot up in the air for a solid 30 count. Needless to say I failed these tests.

The first moment when things started to get really scary for me was when the hand cuffs clamped down on my wrists. That one really made me take stock of the past few hours. It was like, "this isn't real it's not really happening" until you hear that "clickkckickck" it didn't seem real. Getting in the back seat of a cop car ain't fun. There's no cushions. Herrera was kind enough to ask me what kidna music I like. I replied, "oh you know the kind to get drunk to" he didn't see the humor. He put on Kiss FM nad I decided I was really going to hell.

When I arrived at the station I was approached by another officer named Officer Ong I believe. I coulnd't quite grasp his name. For some bizarre reason I kept calling him officer J. I dunno why that was. But I'd ask him strange questions like "what's that" and point with my hand still in cuffs. I'd get a push from Herrera and i'd continue never knowing what (if anything) i was pointing at. I learned that the police station was in Pasadena the corner of Garfield and Walnut. I managed to remember that later.

The Pasadena Jail is not a fun place. The first thing was the concrete floors. After the standard breathalyzer test and the removal of my shoestrings and belt, wallet, money, I was standing in front of a sealed room with large glass windows in front of a wire cage where the officer sit. You can guess the concrete and cinderblock room was where the prisoners sit. The "Drunk Tank" was already populated with 5 other people. Mostly drunks picked up for pissing on sidewalks I found out later.

I was figerprinted by a young man named E. Fuller. Helluva nice guy. Officer J and Herrera had long been gone. and Fuller was charged with taking down my inventory of shit from my pockets and the whole fingerprinting process. Grease rollers. My whole palm on a sheet of paper and ta da, my very own palm print in triplicate destined to be photocopied and filed away for the rest of my life. Apparently Fuller was bored and was watching the news and decided to ask me a political question of, "what I thought of wha't shappening in the middle east" I took this moment of clarity my brain had (as I understood his question and my mouth had started not slurring words as much). After a long lecture (I can be long winded on subjects such as american history and politics) he decided his brain was full and I was supposed to be in a cell with drunks. My boots are removed (as they are steel toed) and i'm locked in the drunk tank.

People who piss on streets and are locked up for it are not very bright. I made this realization that night. As I stood there in my socks trying hard not to flip out and run towards the Fat angry night watch man and try to get shot for running away from jail. The started talking at me in words I just couldn't understand. I was starting to get a headache and i wanted a cigarette very badly. Naturally I'm irritable and pissed because I was starting to get the idea that i'm stuck here with them retards I hate from mcMurpheys. People who'll drive home in bought n paid for BMW's and lexus' that mom n dad paid for while they go to school. I hate these people with unrivaled passion. A particularly stupid 'tard was Curtis. Apparently he ans his friend were in there. His friend was sleeping and the homeless man was sleeping also. I found a corner and sat and decided to try and ignore everyone. However social politics were ever present. They wanted to know my "blow" the Blood alcohol content i had, the reason I got busted how long I was here, how long my beard is, how long I been growing it and other questions I hate in the getting to know you phase of being in an enclosed area for a long time wit hpeople I don't/know/care/give one red fuck about.

A brief rundown of the people in the detox tank were as follows: 2 moron's that got busted for pisson on a wall. a homeless man. a british guy. some dude FAR too drunk to remember how to unzip his pants. and a very pretty guard that was outside in the 'cage' watching TV. The guy who talked FAR too much was Curtis and was a jammer mouth for a very long time. he couldn't stop talking. He looked like the kind that is very soft has some cool friends that introduced this barely-as-smart-as-forrest-gump brainiac to acid a few years ago and never quite recovered. Soft. I hate people like this. spoiled rich, young and with a future in middle management. after an hour of his incessant yammering, I decided to stop him before I hurt him.

I suggested Curtis, "shut up." He declined. I insisted. He kept asking me why. I said to him after approaching him to know that I meant to hurt him, "dude if you don't shut the FUCK UP, I wil slam your face against that brick wall so hard you'll be carried outta here. Know this. I will fucking carve my name in your cheeks with my fingernails." i was very angry. He kinda took the hint and he kept looking at his cool friend trying to sleep and knew he'd have no help there. he sat down. Just in time for Stupid Human Tricks by stupid drunk kid.

Stupid Drunk kid was far to tossed to realize where he was who he was talking to and why he was here. He insisted on calling the female guard over for no discernible reason. He decided after the yelling he was gonna take a piss. Now the room smalls bad snough of beer farts and stale puke. This jack off decides he's gonna piss but he's not gonna take down his pants. Some how he managed to get in front of the toilet. He took two looks at it and decided he's gonna have ot piss now. The spreading pool to the side of the toilet of piss startedto bug me. I pointed out to him, "hey man yo're pissin on the floor." he says, "oh shit heheh fuck i'm wasted" while still pissin and now managed to get it on the wall and all over the toilet seat. He managed to finish with his pants still dow naround his ankles and his boxers half off to stumble over to his little corner and lie down just in time to puke not on him, but on the floor. Nice. He was removed.

About this time we all started to wonder what time it was. Curtis was sleeping on his shoes and mumbling about, "wtf" under his breathe over and over. but it was soft and I barely heard him. Around the shift change I cought the attn of a guard that was about 400 pounds of fat ass and asked her what time it was. she stated she didn't know. about this time I paced in front ofhte door looking for a clock. I did that for a long time. padding in front of the door back and forth lookin for a clock. I got tired and the room started to smell worse. I decided i was gonna sleep now.

Waking up I knew 2 things. I was DAMN hungry and GODDAMMIT i wanted a cigarette. I was asked to leave by the shift guard and released to the holding cell where I was allowed to make 3 phone calls collect for 5 minutes each. I called my mom n dad and got the number for geoff my former bail bondsman brother. I get the idea that my family was very scared. It's interesting. You don't really know how it feels to say, "Dad. It's kc. I'm in Jail. I need 7600 dollars to get outta here or i'm stuck here until monday morning." This was saturday morning. I suggest to Geoff that we split the 10% of bail and he go to a bail bondsman and get me the FUCK outta here. He agreed.

I was then led to the Jail proper. Cell C-16 was me. for about 5 hours saturday I was sleeping in there. blue framed windows and metal and concrete. Not the most stimulating of interiors. No shower. There was a toilet. A foam starfish shaped toothbrush. I made the bed and went to sleep. I slept until I was bailed out.

Probably the ONLY redeeming element about the whole deal the whole weekend was the moment I was bailed out. The relief I felt was incredible. I'd say the happiest moment I know of in human history was the moment I was bailed out. It was scary at first cause it wasn't my brother who bailed me. It was Candie. I coudln't believe it. I thought it was a mistake. I knew Candie was broke as me. Probably more. The guard explained to me that it was bailed in full. 7600 dollars. I don't know ANYONE with that much money. Much less anyone with that much money that would spend the money getting my fucked up ass outta jail. Nonetheless I was told by the guard after I received all my stuff from my pockets, to, "Go up the stairs and go out the blue door with white lettering." I did and saw sunlight. You don't miss sunlight until you're deprived of it ofr a while. It's a little weird. You'll see the occasional discovery channel documentary on people who are in caves exploring for days and days and the voice over keeps talking about not seeing the sun for 5 days. you keep thinking, "who the fuck cares? Who likes the sun just for being the sun anyway? That moment when I left nad I saw sunlight gleaming off a parked car across the street. It's timeless. It's forever stuck in my brain. A freeze frame. If i could print it out or put it on canvas it woudln't be the same. you can't see that kind of relief. you have to experience it.

I looked to my left and say Candie and toad sitting on the curb and I literally grabbed Candie and hugged her so tight I think I crushed her ribcage. It was explained that Candie was on her way to Bill's and got the idea what was happening and saw my truck. She told the officers that i was her boyfriend and needed to get me out of there now. She called around looking for anyone with the cash to get me out. 7600 dollars. That's a lot for friends to take out to take a chance on my fucked up llame ass. She called the Toad and he agreed. I quickly offered Toad a rim job (if you know Toad you know he's a odd kinda guy. not gay but will often say the most random things and you have GOT to wonder about that guy but he's probably the coolest Memphinian I know) and hugged him about as tight at Candie.