|
This past summer, shortly after Hurricane Charley, a friend of mine asked me to pick him up. He was in the seedier end of town. I wasn't sure where exactly he was so I circled the block a few times looking for him.
A cop noticed this, pulled me over, and asked what I was up to. I told him I was merely trying to pick up my friend, to which he replied "You could have come up with a better story than that, that's what I hear from every white kid who drives around here looking for crack." The fact that I was wearing the clothes I had been in all day dragging hurricane debris out of my yard and driving my old beater car didn't help my image much, either.
3 cops searched me and my car, and of course found nothing whatsoever. So he couldn't charge me for anything drug-related, but he was soooo sure I was a crackhead that he hauled me off to jail for the night because of a curfew violation (unbeknownst to me there was a curfew because of the power being out, etc. from the hurricane). The judge sacked me with the maximum $500 fine and suggested that I seek help if I have a drug problem.
What an embarrassing pain in the ass nightmare.
|