careful with those stickers!
I had just finished my shift at
Dark Room around 12:05am one Monday in November when
I was accosted by one of " New York City 's Finest".
I got some new kickass 2" x 2" stickers
for my label, "Messin' With Records", that
I was putting up on Houston St. , when a guy started
walking alongside me and asked, "Hey man, what's
goin' on?" I answered, "Juss chillin', doin'
my thing, how's it goin'?" He pulls his badge
out and says, "You know I'm a cop, right? What
are you doing putting stickers up?" I quickly
replied, "Oh, I can take those down." As
I turn around to do so, he says, "No, no - just
put your hands behind your back." I thought,
"Fuck. FUCK!!!" He didn't even ask to see
my ID! Then his frat boy partner came in and started
searching me, took my ID and looked through my bag
(luckily there was nothing incriminating besides my
stickers and a bottle opener that they referred to
as a "wrench").
They put me in
an unmarked white van and didn't even read me my rights!
They said they were with the “Graffiti Unit”,
and that Bloomberg has them “cracking down”.
Ironically, there was a song faintly playing on the
radio in the van and I said, "I think you have
some Queen on." They turned up the radio, and
yes, “Bohemian Rhapsody” was playing.
"Mama...just killed a man...” Off to Precinct
All the other cops
were cracking up, laughing at the douche bag, saying,
“What a waste of time that was!”, as they
went about putting stickers all over the arresting
cop's back in front of me. They took my belt, shoelaces
and chain wallet, and put me in a cell with a few
dudes that were just sleeping on the floor. They were
called out a little while later, and I ended up in
there by myself. I was then fingerprinted, asked to
show my tattoos and sign a paper that listed my belongings.
"Why do I have to do that?”, I asked. "They
won't let you bring anything downtown", was the
So they put me through
the fucking system, and sent me over to Central Booking
around 4:30am . The cop there laughed as well as he
looked at my paperwork, telling the arresting cop,
"This one's dangerous". So I filed in, grabbing
my 2% milk and Rice Krispies breakfast – “Snap,
Crackle & Pop”! The guys in there were all
being held for an array of reasons, from sleeping
on the streets to gun-wielding with a few kilos in
the trunk. When they finally asked me why I was there,
I told them, and they all bugged the hell out (it
was kind of funny). I was the only white rocker-type
dude in there, and everyone was cool. Funny how they
all kept talking about their rights…
At about 2pm , I had
a damn cheese sandwich with some more 2% milk, and
was just thinking about my gig that evening. By the
time I was let out (17 hours later), they were all
like, "Rock on, man!"
I finally saw the judge,
who let me go with 6 months' probation. The cop wrote
me up for “vandalizing and mischievous behavior”
(what the fuck is that?) I left and went straight
for my 5:00 to 10:00pm shift. My roommate was cool
and brought my gear over to work. Then I went straight
to my gig at 169Bar for my 11:00pm set, running on
adrenaline (and some Jack Daniels). I rocked the house
and went back to Precinct 4 (under Union Square )
to claim my bag with all my crap at 1:30am on Thursday!
All of this on only 1 hour of sleep - nice!
Isn't it great
to see how we're protected and taken care of by our
fine justice system?