Well it looks like I never got around to blogging that day. Overall it was a good day. There were 6 cops at the end of our driveway for about 5 hours. They came the backyard once during a fight, but left right afterwards and just chilled. They really didn't bother us at all that day, but it was Spree Day so they have a history of being lenient on that one day. Either way, I'll appreciate the token of freedom once a year. Thanks officers, I had a great time. 

8:00 AM. Still haven't slept yet. I'm off to class. Be back around 9:20.

One Year Anniversary

Just thought it would fun to point out, seeing as how I just noticed this a moment ago; Today is the one-year anniversary of the last time I was arrested. 

In 2007, at about 8:00 PM I was stopped by a Fitchburg city cop and asked about my bookbag. I said I had beer in it and that I was 22. I didn't have my license on me but I had my school ID. I told them, "Look, you've arrested me before, I should be in the system, I just don't have my wallet." After about 5 minutes they said I was alright and let me go. I walked into the backyard of 182 Highland and joined about 80-90 other people. As I'm trying to recognize faces in the crowd, it dawns on me. 

There is a warrant for my arrest.

A.) How could I be so stupid carrying that bag? 

B.) How the hell did I get by the cops?

Well after about 7-8 minutes of being there, about 5 cops came into the backyard. In front of about 40 onlookers that noticed the cops came in, one of them points at me and goes "There he is!" 

My jaw drops as I accept my fate. I give my beers to the nearest friend and wait for judgement. Without even waiting to be addressed I look at them and quietly surmise out loud "The warrant?" 

I can't quite remember if they slapped the cuffs on right away, or let me walk on my own recognizance to the paddy wagon. My own stupidity fueled my cooperative nature, so I can fathom them showing some pity, and waiting until I was out front to hand-cuff me. I'll ask around today to see if anyone else remembers.

But again, I get sidetracked with the hilarity of the scenarios in which I'm involved. Going back to police practices..... why should I be in fear that my bag would be searched? There could be a thousand people drinking on the campus. The truth is, if I'm walking in a straight line on a city street, I SHOULD NOT BE STOPPED. The officer has zero reason to be suspicious of anything. 

And then, it takes me a year to realize, that if the officers know there is a warrant for my arrest, they need SEARCH warrant to come get me. They never should walked into the backyard for 182. There is no set protocol for these cops.

Spree Day blog

Aw Jesus. It's 7 AM, I haven't slept yet, and I actually got the idea to blog Spree Day. I feel depressed at my own gay/dorky/unoriginal ideas. 

For those that don't live in the Fitchburg area, Spree Day is the last day of classes at the college and the biggest drinking day of the year. This is my fifth Spree and my first with a good apartment. 

Basically our (my roommates and I) contribution to today's festivities will be to physically open the doors and let people come over. They can drink themselves stupid if they really want to, most people won't stay for more than an hour. Night times is what we should watch out for. All the drunks who paced themselves and didn't pass out at 7 are going to meet together. We just gotta make sure it's not at our place. The paddy wagon will be itching to bust someone today.

  It's way too much of a risk to get kegs and sell cups. My original idea, which was buy about 300 cans of Milwaukee's best and sell 6-packs for five bucks, now seems likes like way too much work. Forget trying to make a fire and sell dogs and burgers. I still think "cook your own dogs" has a cool, mood-setting intangible that's so important at large parties.

I'm curious as to how the cops are gonna enter our house. The back yard stairs that lead out to Damon Street will be blocked off, but not very effectively. We'll probably put some sort of makeshift sign up that says to come around to the front driveway. The effectiveness of this "blockade" is both good and bad. A weak blockade is easy to by-pass, however, if the cops crash in through the front door, the "blockade" can be pushed aside for a speedy, mass evacuation of drunk people. 

Officer YouKnowWho

I would bet that most students under age of 25 are very aware of the police practices surrounding them. At any age, for that matter, most people are generally familiar with the local police force. Often times, we even learn the names and faces of officers. For whatever reason, a cop earns a dash of "celebrity status" simply because of the nature of his work. The fact that an officer is likely to be front and center during big moments in the community also attributes to his or her notoriety.

Ideally, a hero will be created in a daring of act of bravery. Officer YouKnowWho comes around the corner in the heat of a hostage situation and subdues a criminal flawlessly all thanks to impeccable academy training. He smiles for the camera and claims it's "all in a day's work." Next, our hero would be seen from the ghetto. This officer of justice drives through the streets hauling away drug runners, pimps, prostitutes and even the occaisional young hoodlum carrying a blunt and can of spray paint. The young hoodlum would get a motivational speech from our hero which would forever change his life, prompting the youth to do his homework, pick up a basketball, or even volunteer at the elderly center. This is what we expect from our law enforcement.

Realistically, we should see that cops are human. They probably don't love going to work everyday. What they do love, however, is appearing to be cops. And what better way to look like a cop than making sure your police log is full of activity. So they find the easy stuff like traffic violations, parking tickets, and teenage loiterers.

What aggravates me the most, is the amount of actual crime in Fitchburg, that city cops are afraid of. Not even that they're afraid, I don't think they want to go through the effort it would take to stop drug dealers and gangs that exist all throughout the city. It's so much easier for a cop to drive around in his cruiser with the window down and listen for a party. The cops know where we party at FSC. It's not a big school so there's no more than 15 apartment where FSC students dwell. How much easier is it for a cop to walk into a house full of college kids trying to hang out with their friends and arrest the kids that live there. All they have to say is that they were "disturbing the peace." At least, that's the count that my roommate and I were charged on. (I'll tell that story another day.)

Why would a cop want to spend some hours on foot in front of the ghetto? With the prostitutes, and gang members with guns? They search FSC students on the spot on a weekend night. (Well, the ones with backpacks.) The kids with backpacks get ID'd on the street, and if the student isn't 21 years old, the backpack gets searched. Why can't they do this on to the gang members on Green Street? Because they're scared of doing some real cop work, and as long as they're slapping the cuffs on someone, they'll look like cops.

Would this happen at any Ivy League school? Of course not. Why? Because these cops would run into a few "my dad's a lawyer" situations, and they'd be fucked for wrongful arrests. I go to a state school. You think anyone of my peers has the money to hire a lawyer and fight a "disturbing the peace" charge? They can barely pay for books.

So keep it up, Officer YouKnowWho. You look great.

Early birds

I drove home from eating dinner at about 6:30 today. There was a FPD officer on the corner of Pearl Street and North Street. ................. Did I mention it was 6:30? They were already out and about, ready to check bookbags.

Most Recent Issue

At about 2:30 on Friday morning I was in my living room playing Xbox Live. My roommate was in the dining room listening to the messages on his cell phone. The lights were off. Out of nowhere, my roommate and I hear the front door open up. We assume it must be our third roommate, or even a mutual friend. From my seat on the couch, I cannot see the door, so I wait to see what my roommate says. However, from my seat on the couch, I can see a beam of light from a flashlight peering around our home. It turns out, two police officers took it upon themselves to open our front door and let themselves in.
"Where's the noise coming from?" says cop number 1. I look at him like he has 8 heads growing out of his neck. And then I look around the room that I'm sitting in. For a moment, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and physically twisted around in my seat searching for the noise he was talking about. Thankfully, I wasn't going too crazy, the room was still empty.
I reply to him "Uh................" Followed by awkard silence. I look at my roommate. He looks back and shrugs. Dumbfounded. More awkard silence.
"There are tenants that live upstairs on the second floor. And on the third floor." It was all the response I could muster. I was completely caught off guard by the presense of two cops in my home. He looks at me and points his flashlight to the ceiling.
"You don't hear that noise?" blurts the cops in a "you must be deaf" sort of way. I look at the ceiling and tell him plainly, "...........No. I didn't even notice." He follows with another question.
"Well how do you get upstairs?" he asks.
"There's a doorbell for the 2nd and 3rd floors outside," I respond. The officer refutes me.
"Well there's gotta be some sort of back entrance to get there." He motions to the back of my house with his flashlight.
"Well yeah, but all you have to do is ring the doorbell. They'll come down and let you in." I'm practically spoonfeeding him his own protocol at this point. Again, he refutes my point.
"Where's the back stairwell? There's gotta be a back stairwell." Finally my roommate interjects.
"Officers, I don't mean to be rude. But it's not really our position to let you up those stairs. We use them [the stairs] every once in a while, but my roommate already told you guys how to get upstairs. We're not trying to cause any problems. We just don't feel right doing it."
At this point, the officers realized the situation. But not before peering around our apartment once more with flashlights ablazing. Like any professional employee of the state, one of the officers makes sure to leave us with a comment to think about as he exits.
"It doesn't matter. We're just gonna tell them that you guys called in the noise complaint anyway." More awkward silence. Dumbfounded. Stunned. Awestruck. Violated. Paralyzed by absurdity. We didn't know what to feel.

How can they get away with this? This story was not fabricated (nor did it need to be) in any way. When I told my friends about this, we started to brainstorm about all the things wrong with that situation. A boatload of "What if" scenarios were discovered.
1.) What if you were having sex with your girlfriend?
2.) What if you smoking pot?
3.) What if you were sleeping?
4.) What if you were just cleaning the house naked for no reason?

Although some of the "What if" scenarios were absurd, they are all still plausible, and very embarrassing. What is going to have to happen for college kids to have their right as a homeowner enforced?