So this morning some chick assaulted me in the Metro station.
And I got arrested for it.
This is not an April Fool's joke. I wish to God it was.
This morning this chick shoved me twice as I was getting off the Metro; once as she decided to push past me through the doors, again as I turned to go to the escalator. Now, these knocked me off balance; that's just how physics works. Now, I have no memory of this, but my guess is that as I got my balance back I must have bumped her.
Next thing I know I'm getting punched in the back, with this woman screaming that I'm trying to kill her. (Yes. Really.) I endure about three punches before I start calling for a police officer, all the while still being pummeled. She's screaming, literally, at the top of her lungs; one person volunteers that he saw her get bumped, and another two people decide they saw it as well. With the woman still screaming, we head up to the topmost level. I attempt to tell the Metro employee what happened, and am mostly ignored.
The next few minutes are an absolutely fascinating example of witness fallibility and groupthink. The three witnesses, egged on by the woman's screaming and insistance that I was trying to kill her, go from saying I bumped or shoved her a little to insisting that I hurled her into the train with all of my strength due to some grudge I had against her from the train.
Again, this is not an April Fool's joke.
By the time the police officers show up, I have yet to realize (as I should have long since) that this has turned into a lynch mob against me. I ask the officers to file a report for her assaulting me. They ignore me. They take the witnesses aside, interview them as a group, and then decide that the fact that every witness used, literally and I quote the officer, "the exact same words to describe the incident" is clear proof that I did it, rather than the obvious collaboration it is. And so they let the woman go and arrest me.
Do you really want a description of how this went? Short story: I went from a large holding cell, to a tiny one in the booking station, to a large one full of people in the court, to a small one full of people in the court. I was denied an attorney (I make too much, they claim), charged with simple assault, and told I had to be back with a lawyer in a month. Plea bargain offered is a year of probation and anger management classes (which would go something like this: "Why are you angry?" "Because I have to take stupid anger managament classes for something I didn't do.").
So then they release me, and tell me to come back by 10 the next day with proof of my address. And the conversation goes like this:
"So where's my stuff?"
"At the district station you were booked in."
"...You want me to walk to the station, with no ID, no money, no phone, and no SHOELACES."
"It's only half a mile."
So I walk to the station in question, and guess what? They don't have my stuff.
So the night closes with me lacking my wallet, money, keys, bag (including books and DS), ID, and... shoelaces. I literally have no resources but the clothes on my back and a borrowed metro card with one trip's worth in. Frankly, I probably can't even go back to work; can't get in the building without an ID, right? My only hope is that I am actually able to get my stuff back tomorrow.
You can imagine how likely this is.
The lesson here is: Never have hopes or dreams.
And I got arrested for it.
This is not an April Fool's joke. I wish to God it was.
This morning this chick shoved me twice as I was getting off the Metro; once as she decided to push past me through the doors, again as I turned to go to the escalator. Now, these knocked me off balance; that's just how physics works. Now, I have no memory of this, but my guess is that as I got my balance back I must have bumped her.
Next thing I know I'm getting punched in the back, with this woman screaming that I'm trying to kill her. (Yes. Really.) I endure about three punches before I start calling for a police officer, all the while still being pummeled. She's screaming, literally, at the top of her lungs; one person volunteers that he saw her get bumped, and another two people decide they saw it as well. With the woman still screaming, we head up to the topmost level. I attempt to tell the Metro employee what happened, and am mostly ignored.
The next few minutes are an absolutely fascinating example of witness fallibility and groupthink. The three witnesses, egged on by the woman's screaming and insistance that I was trying to kill her, go from saying I bumped or shoved her a little to insisting that I hurled her into the train with all of my strength due to some grudge I had against her from the train.
Again, this is not an April Fool's joke.
By the time the police officers show up, I have yet to realize (as I should have long since) that this has turned into a lynch mob against me. I ask the officers to file a report for her assaulting me. They ignore me. They take the witnesses aside, interview them as a group, and then decide that the fact that every witness used, literally and I quote the officer, "the exact same words to describe the incident" is clear proof that I did it, rather than the obvious collaboration it is. And so they let the woman go and arrest me.
Do you really want a description of how this went? Short story: I went from a large holding cell, to a tiny one in the booking station, to a large one full of people in the court, to a small one full of people in the court. I was denied an attorney (I make too much, they claim), charged with simple assault, and told I had to be back with a lawyer in a month. Plea bargain offered is a year of probation and anger management classes (which would go something like this: "Why are you angry?" "Because I have to take stupid anger managament classes for something I didn't do.").
So then they release me, and tell me to come back by 10 the next day with proof of my address. And the conversation goes like this:
"So where's my stuff?"
"At the district station you were booked in."
"...You want me to walk to the station, with no ID, no money, no phone, and no SHOELACES."
"It's only half a mile."
So I walk to the station in question, and guess what? They don't have my stuff.
So the night closes with me lacking my wallet, money, keys, bag (including books and DS), ID, and... shoelaces. I literally have no resources but the clothes on my back and a borrowed metro card with one trip's worth in. Frankly, I probably can't even go back to work; can't get in the building without an ID, right? My only hope is that I am actually able to get my stuff back tomorrow.
You can imagine how likely this is.
The lesson here is: Never have hopes or dreams.
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