Friday, May 13, 2011

Guilty Until Proven Innocent

One of the biggest challenges I face each day is overcoming the initial "oh-my-gosh-I-don't-know-why-I-write-because-I-suck" mind fuck.*  So yesterday I threw on my work clothes aka worn out yoga pants and a shirt that I had decorated for a day long pro-life side-walk campaign several months back.  Doing some deep yoga-type breathing I was a few paragraphs into an article due that afternoon when I Kiddo yelled from the kitchen that someone was knocking at the door.  Right now he thinks washing dishes is fun.  He doesn't get the dishes clean by any stretch of the imagination, but if that keeps him busy for 1 hour then I'm all for it.

Nearing the door, I fought my tendency to pull my 'Chuck Norris' knife off the wall and have it in my hand.  (I found it at my great-grandfather's house when he passed away last year and I didn't want it going to Salvation Army.  It's probably an old turkey carving knife, but it's got a 12 inch blade and a really kick-ass curve to it.  I pretend Chuck Norris would stab the bad guys with it).  Being a single woman/mother I am uneasy when someone comes to my door and I wasn't expecting anyone and I don't have a peep-hole or security chain.  But I cracked open the door to find myself staring at a cop easily over 6'5" weighing in the neighborhood of 275.

Officer D-bag snarls, "Do you own this place?"
"No, I rent this part."
"Step outside.  Now if you're honest, I probably won't arrest you."


Over the next hour he proceeds to accuse me of stealing cable from the Garden Club next door, that if I looked like a junkie when I opened the door he would have arrested me, why didn't I think to get a business card from the installer, the installer would lose his job, he would tell the phone company that he was arresting me and I could sue them (the phone company), and he would probably cut my cable.

All the while the officer is walking around my yard on hold with the phone company and walking in and out of my (very messy) bed room where I have the connection.  Finally, he gets off the phone and said he spoke with Supervisor T at the phone company and that 'my story checks out.'

"My job here is done.  You need to call the repair line and tell them to bury the cable."  Then he was gone.

I was so spooked that my concentration was lost and I was exhausted.  I didn't have time to write because I had to meet up with my mother and run errands.  When I call the phone company later in the afternoon to confirm that the line issue would be straightened out, the woman on the other line, along with her supervisor told me that I was not stealing cable.

The thin orange cable is a legal, temporary wire; that the hub the wire is connected to at the Garden Club is considered 'eminent domain' for the phone company; that the installer wouldn't be losing his job; that any police should know that the thin orange wire can't be purchased at any store and is standard operating procedure that when a service is installed it takes about 2 weeks to get the real cable run and buried in the ground.

ALL OF THIS I TRIED EXPLAINING TO THE COP.

And did he listen or believe me?  Hell no!  I felt so violated after hearing this from the phone company operator.  This cop had been on the force for over 4 years and told me 'he sees this stuff all the time' so he obviously isn't new to this.  He treated me like I was a piece of maggot ridden shit.  I suppose I could excuse his gruff, brusque manner if he were a hardened beat cop from the mean streets of Chicago or Miami, but come on!  I think the biggest crimes in this town is domestic abuse and cow tipping.  I live next to a fancy shamncy Garden Club and almost adjacent to the Women's Club.  This is by far the scary hood.

I got so upset.  I was mad at myself for being so naive to allow myself to be bullied.  I was mad that I allowed a stranger into my house.  What if he had been a bad person with evil intentions?  I've read extensively on methods and minds of serial killers, yet I did something that would have made me and my son a perfect victim.  I know well enough that if I am pulled over for driving in the evening I can refuse to get out of my car until backup arrives. 

I cried to my friend K last night.  Today my sister insisted that I make a complaint to the supervisor of the cop.  So tomorrow after the Kiddo goes to grandma's for the weekend, IT IS ON!

Gonna get my attitude on, put on my heels (cuz I always feel powerful in heeled shoes), and make myself heard.  That was such severe bullshit and I didn't deserve to go through that.

*(Editorial note: I attempted to curb my swearing in most of earlier writings, well except for the post regarding fucking Terry Jones, but I realize that sometimes I censure myself far too much and then I hate myself for not being 'the real me.'  And yes, I know daily 'struggles  with because-I-suck-thoughts' are what has kept me seeing a good therapist for the past two years.  Believe me, if you'd have seen me last year, I would be apologizing for breathing too loudly.  So now, thanks to a post by Aunt Becky, I realize that if someone is offended by my writings, they can just not follow me.  It's not like they can fire me, like the last boss I had did.  That's why I'm working for myself Bitch!).