ellisat2
Member
I was in DC sometime towards the end of August in 2011. We went to Bullfeathers on 1st Street to have lunch/brunch. We stayed there way too long leaving about 1PM. As we walked down D Street, staggered would be more accurate, a guy was screaming, “The end of the world is coming!”
I said, “Yeah, brother.”
“Save yourselves. The end is very fucking nigh.”
I had never said if I was religious only that I agreed with him.
“Wow. Crazy that you think the world is really going to end.”
Out of the darkness came another guy, “You and you, you better prepare yourselves for the end.”
All of the sudden, I felt the ground beneath me move. The men steadied themselves against the street lamp. Greg grabbed one of the men and punched him in the face. Moshe started yelling shit. The police came up to us and they gave him a ticket for public nuisance. 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 pants and charge you with attempted assault. You lose your pants, 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 attempted assault. They charged you with conspiracy to commit murder. 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?”
“The District doesn’t count. They have no law. Where are you?”
“Mass Avenue in DC...”
“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.
DC Department of Corrections, we could be sent to the worst jail in northern eastern Virginia for thinking about punching some dude who told us it was the end of the world. 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 Washington Post. “You might like Page 3.”
I almost shit on the floor. It was all about us. California pair comes to DC to punch bros out near the National Mall. 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 DC, please excuse my legalese, 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 the Department of Corrections. I didn’t think that was a good place for you. So here I am.”
Thank you. What should I call you?”
“Berry.”
“As in Marion Berry, the former crackhead??”
“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.”
I said, “Yeah, brother.”
“Save yourselves. The end is very fucking nigh.”
I had never said if I was religious only that I agreed with him.
“Wow. Crazy that you think the world is really going to end.”
Out of the darkness came another guy, “You and you, you better prepare yourselves for the end.”
All of the sudden, I felt the ground beneath me move. The men steadied themselves against the street lamp. Greg grabbed one of the men and punched him in the face. Moshe started yelling shit. The police came up to us and they gave him a ticket for public nuisance. 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 pants and charge you with attempted assault. You lose your pants, 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 attempted assault. They charged you with conspiracy to commit murder. 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?”
“The District doesn’t count. They have no law. Where are you?”
“Mass Avenue in DC...”
“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.
DC Department of Corrections, we could be sent to the worst jail in northern eastern Virginia for thinking about punching some dude who told us it was the end of the world. 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 Washington Post. “You might like Page 3.”
I almost shit on the floor. It was all about us. California pair comes to DC to punch bros out near the National Mall. 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 DC, please excuse my legalese, 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 the Department of Corrections. I didn’t think that was a good place for you. So here I am.”
Thank you. What should I call you?”
“Berry.”
“As in Marion Berry, the former crackhead??”
“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.”
