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Anyone On The Pit Been To Jail/Prison?

Greg was/is a dick. I remember that from your book.

RJKarl said:
We went to Brennan’s to have lunch/brunch. We stayed there way too long leaving about 1AM. As we walked down Bourbon Street, staggered would be more accurate, a guy was screaming, “Anyone got Super Bowl tickets?”

I said, “We do.”

“He said I’ll give $1000 apiece for them.”

I had never said they were for sale only that we had them.

“Wow. A couple friends of ours aren’t going to make it to the game.”

Out of the darkness came another guy, “You and you, you’re under arrest. Give us the tickets.”

They flashed badges, took our tickets and hand-cuffed Greg and I. Moshe started giving them shit. They gave him a ticket for interfering with a police office. Then they put us in the back seat of their police car and told Moshe and Betty where they were taking us.

As we went there one cop said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take your tickets and charge you with scalping. You lose the tickets, but it’s only a $50 fine.”

The other cop said. ”Y’all can pay the fine and be on your way after processing.”

What fucking liars these two were. We got to the station, were fingerprinted, had mug shots taken and were taken to jail.

As we were about to be put in the holding cell, we asked the booking guy what our bail was. “You two have $5000 cash bond because you are from out of state.”

I was stunned. “The officers told us it would be $50.”

“It would have been for scalping. They charged you with conspiracy to commit scalping. That could mean Angola.”

Holy fucking shit! What the fuck was this. They put us in the holding cell. There was one pay phone in there for all of us. I waited my turn and called my lawyer back in Jersey.

“I’m in jail.”

“Don’t worry. I can get you out in any one of the forty-nine states. Where are you?”

“What do you mean forty-nine states? Was there a tsunami in Hawaii while we were drinking today?”

“Louisiana doesn’t count. They have Napoleonic Law. Where are you?”

“New Orleans.”

“Shit. Try to be safe. I’ll see what I can do.”

That was easy for him to say. He was lying in bed with his beautiful wife. Sitting next to me was a guy who shot someone in the head over a $5 drug deal. Sitting next to Greg was a guy who was charged with kidnapping and rape. It wasn’t very difficult not to fall asleep that night in the holding cell.

Angola, we could be sent to the worst state prison in America for thinking about selling Super Bowl tickets. What kind of place were we in?

Soon we were being taken up to the see the Magistrate. As they strip searched us, the jailer handed the New Orleans Times-Picayune. “You might like Page 3.”

I almost shit on the floor. It was all about us. California pair comes to New Orleans to sell Super Bowl for $1000 on Bourbon Street. We were so fucked. How could this be happening to me? I wanted to kill Greg right that minute.

I was handcuffed to the drug guy in the court. Moshe and Betty were in the gallery. We could see the judge, DA and bailiff all looking at the paper. They were chuckling and pointing at us. That wasn’t a good sign.

All of a sudden a short, light-skinned, black man comes running into the courtroom. He waves at the DA and judge. They smile at him. He walks over to the holding area.

“Who is Rick?”

“I am.”

“I’m your lawyer. Do you have $100?”

“Not really. I was in jail all night. My friends over there should.”

“OK, I’ll take care of everything.”

Moshe gave him some money. He went over to talk to the DA and judge. They motioned to the jailer. He unhooked Greg and I and told us we could go.

I was more confused than I had ever been during this entire odyssey as we all left the courtroom. As the door hit my butt I stopped. “First are we OK.”

The lawyer was holding hands with his girlfriend. “Everything is fine.”

“Since we’re in New Orleans, please excuse my French, but I’ve been in jail and handcuffed to a guy who shot someone over a $5 drug deal. Who the hell are you? How the hell did you get here to help us? Not that I’m complaining.”

“My cousin was your lawyer’s roommate in law school. I got a call at 3AM that you might be on your way to Angola. I didn’t think that was a good place for you. So here I am.”

Thank you. What should I call you?”

“Morial.”

“As in Dutch Morial, the mayor?”

“I think I might know him.” He said with a smile.

“How much do we owe you?”

“How about lunch for my lady and myself?”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”
Click to expand...
 
Right after HS graduation I was "detained" in my hotel room by Myrtle Beach's Finest until my roommates and I were able to come up with enough cash to pay the hotel manager for room repairs after a particularly awesome party.

I've been in most every prison in Georgia visiting clients, and I've seen "Old Smoky" in Jackson, GA and the gas chamber in Raleigh, NC. The gas chamber is pretty creepy.
 
BostonDeac said:
illegal use of the telephone? what was that about?
Click to expand...

first statute that i could find:

Any person who by means of telephone communication:
(1) Makes any comment, request, suggestion or proposal which is obscene or lewd or lascivious and with intent to annoy, abuse, threaten or harass any person at the called number; or
(2) Makes a telephone call whether or not conversation ensues, with or without disclosing his/her identity and with the intent to annoy, abuse, threaten or harass any person at the called number; or
(3) Makes or causes the telephone of another to repeatedly or continuously ring, with intent to annoy or harass any person at the called number; or
(4) Makes repeated telephone calls during which conversation ensues, solely to annoy or harass any person at the called number
 
BostonDeac said:
illegal use of the telephone? what was that about?
Click to expand...

Weeeeell, we were kinda drunk, in a condo, at Myrtle Beach, post-exams after Freshman year.

We went out, found hoodratz, brought them back, and got even more housed.

I'm sleeping face down on the kitchen counter when the coppers start beating on the door at 6am. I drag myself up, open the door, and sober up in .234 seconds.

They got us all up, kicked the girls out, and put us in the car.

On the way to the police station, they played a tape for us. Apparently in the middle of the night we started calling the maid service (number was on fridge) and leaving messages telling them to come clean the place up because we had absolutely trashed it.

SOME of these messages may have gone over the line and been extremely rude. Or maybe they were down right filthy and dirty...

My voice was not on the tapes, but I got to spend a day in the jail in MB then a night in the Horry county Detention Center. Magistrate let us go home the next morning after paying bail and revoking our SC driver's licenses.
 
Myrtle Beach love.

High school spring break, we had the bottom floor of a 2 story duplex. Some greensboro high school kids were upstairs. Across ocean blvd. was a big condo with a dumpster in the parking lot. Well, really hammered really late one night we decide to sit on the top porch and start chucking all the glass bottles at the dumpster. This was great fun. Until two sets of cop cars come racing towards us from each direction. I ran downstairs. As I'm going inside I hear the car tires crunching on all the broken glass as they pull up. My buddy who previously had been asleep on the couch saved my ass, because he yelled at me to take off my clothes and act like I was asleep. There was also a big dude passed out snoring on a chair. So, I throw off my shirt and act like I'm asleep on the couch. Some cops are upstairs while another cop bangs on our door and eventually comes inside because it was unlocked. Cop looks around and goes, "everyone here is asleep" the other cop goes "we got them, it was the ones upstairs" or something like that. A couple kids up there got arrested. I was a lucky ass idiot.
 
RJKarl said:
We went to Brennan’s to have lunch/brunch. We stayed there way too long leaving about 1AM. As we walked down Bourbon Street, staggered would be more accurate, a guy was screaming, “Anyone got Super Bowl tickets?”

I said, “We do.”

“He said I’ll give $1000 apiece for them.”

I had never said they were for sale only that we had them.

“Wow. A couple friends of ours aren’t going to make it to the game.”

Out of the darkness came another guy, “You and you, you’re under arrest. Give us the tickets.”

They flashed badges, took our tickets and hand-cuffed Greg and I. Moshe started giving them shit. They gave him a ticket for interfering with a police office. Then they put us in the back seat of their police car and told Moshe and Betty where they were taking us.

As we went there one cop said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take your tickets and charge you with scalping. You lose the tickets, but it’s only a $50 fine.”

The other cop said. ”Y’all can pay the fine and be on your way after processing.”

What fucking liars these two were. We got to the station, were fingerprinted, had mug shots taken and were taken to jail.

As we were about to be put in the holding cell, we asked the booking guy what our bail was. “You two have $5000 cash bond because you are from out of state.”

I was stunned. “The officers told us it would be $50.”

“It would have been for scalping. They charged you with conspiracy to commit scalping. That could mean Angola.”

Holy fucking shit! What the fuck was this. They put us in the holding cell. There was one pay phone in there for all of us. I waited my turn and called my lawyer back in Jersey.

“I’m in jail.”

“Don’t worry. I can get you out in any one of the forty-nine states. Where are you?”

“What do you mean forty-nine states? Was there a tsunami in Hawaii while we were drinking today?”

“Louisiana doesn’t count. They have Napoleonic Law. Where are you?”

“New Orleans.”

“Shit. Try to be safe. I’ll see what I can do.”

That was easy for him to say. He was lying in bed with his beautiful wife. Sitting next to me was a guy who shot someone in the head over a $5 drug deal. Sitting next to Greg was a guy who was charged with kidnapping and rape. It wasn’t very difficult not to fall asleep that night in the holding cell.

Angola, we could be sent to the worst state prison in America for thinking about selling Super Bowl tickets. What kind of place were we in?

Soon we were being taken up to the see the Magistrate. As they strip searched us, the jailer handed the New Orleans Times-Picayune. “You might like Page 3.”

I almost shit on the floor. It was all about us. California pair comes to New Orleans to sell Super Bowl for $1000 on Bourbon Street. We were so fucked. How could this be happening to me? I wanted to kill Greg right that minute.

I was handcuffed to the drug guy in the court. Moshe and Betty were in the gallery. We could see the judge, DA and bailiff all looking at the paper. They were chuckling and pointing at us. That wasn’t a good sign.

All of a sudden a short, light-skinned, black man comes running into the courtroom. He waves at the DA and judge. They smile at him. He walks over to the holding area.

“Who is Rick?”

“I am.”

“I’m your lawyer. Do you have $100?”

“Not really. I was in jail all night. My friends over there should.”

“OK, I’ll take care of everything.”

Moshe gave him some money. He went over to talk to the DA and judge. They motioned to the jailer. He unhooked Greg and I and told us we could go.

I was more confused than I had ever been during this entire odyssey as we all left the courtroom. As the door hit my butt I stopped. “First are we OK.”

The lawyer was holding hands with his girlfriend. “Everything is fine.”

“Since we’re in New Orleans, please excuse my French, but I’ve been in jail and handcuffed to a guy who shot someone over a $5 drug deal. Who the hell are you? How the hell did you get here to help us? Not that I’m complaining.”

“My cousin was your lawyer’s roommate in law school. I got a call at 3AM that you might be on your way to Angola. I didn’t think that was a good place for you. So here I am.”

Thank you. What should I call you?”

“Morial.”

“As in Dutch Morial, the mayor?”

“I think I might know him.” He said with a smile.

“How much do we owe you?”

“How about lunch for my lady and myself?”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”
Click to expand...

was thinking about this story today
 
ellisat2 said:
holy shit, RJ. Your story couldn't be shorter than that?

Edited: I read it. No offense, RJ, since you can write entertaining stories, but I don't believe that one.
Click to expand...

I had to double check and make sure it wasn't Harv or rkarl. Also just noticed OP was 2011. RicoSuave's post helped with that realization.
 
Wow. Don't remember reading that RJK story. Hell of a night! Also, can't believe this wasn't a Sokolove bump.

Detained once on cruise ship for smoking weed in the casino...never arrested though.
 
Busted for smoking a joint outside the Beacon Theatre before an Allman Brothers show. I spent 24 hours in "the tombs", Manhattan Central Booking. It really sucked as life experiences go. Must confess that being the only white guy in a cell of 75 people was a little unnerving.
 
Spent a night in the drunk tank at the Watauga Co. Sheriff’s Dept. when I was 19 and a student at App. My dumb ass was walking over cars parked on the street and a deputy was lurking. Got the “scare the kid” treatment, and learned to play poker with two local drunks. No ticket, no record.
 
Spent a night in the drunk tank in downtime San Diego after that Saints-Colts Superbowl
 
I got arrested for being drunk after a concert the weekend after I graduated high school down in Alpharetta. It was a Friday, I got out of jail on Tuesday when I went before the judge and she let me off without bail for time served. My pops refused to bail me out.

It was not fun, would not recommend.
 
my takeaway from this thread: a lot of people can't handle their alcohol.
 
WFcatamount22 said:
I got arrested for being drunk after a concert the weekend after I graduated high school down in Alpharetta. It was a Friday, I got out of jail on Tuesday when I went before the judge and she let me off without bail for time served. My pops refused to bail me out.

It was not fun, would not recommend.
Click to expand...

Your pops is a wise man. I would not have bailed you out either.
 
RJKarl said:
Way to call me a liar.....Go fuck yourself....that is what happened and how it happene

All of us have lapses of judgment sometime, but he's alright, Kole. Please accept my apologies for him.

I am not going to share details of my personal jail experience, other than to say it involved an establishment named the Red Lion (if I recall correctly) in Tallahassee in the early 70s. The funny thing about my story was that there was no trace of it on the record later on, when I was applying to grad school and having to disclose all of my sins, high crimes and misdemeanors. I reported it anyway. I was scared not to.
Click to expand...
 
76, that post was almost eight years ago.

You've known me for a couple of weeks or so. When we last met in KY, wasn't I amused and creeped out by how much more interested in me some here are than I am?
 
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