My cousin, who was 16 at the time, was with a couple of his friends when he picked me up to take me to my Mom's birthday party. I was 18. I fell asleep on the drive, and I woke up in the passenger seat to a ton of cigarette packages being thrown into my lap and a cop walking up to the window. Apparently my cousin had been doing 45 in a 40, which would have been fine and dandy if the idiot hadn't unbeknownst to me also stolen a street sign earlier that day, something that the cop immediately noticed in the bed of the truck. I had just woken up and was super confused, being asked if the cigarettes were mine. I'd always vehemently hated smokers and smoking and learned afterwords the boys were hoping I'd claim ownership of the cigarettes since I was the only one of legal age to smoke them. This is also when I learned my cousin was a secret smoker. I don't remember what all happened between then and being taken to jail, but because I was the only one over 18 I got taken in while my cousin and his friends got to wait with the cops as their parents were called to come pick them up. I was, and am, an inveterate goody two shoes, and I was still drowsy, overwhelmed, and approaching system shut down. At the jail I tried to explain myself to the judge, and he kept telling me that even if I was innocent, it was my fault for not choosing my company more wisely. He kept telling me that over and over again - his words are emblazoned in my mind, and I think I went out of my way to befriend a couple of jerks after this whole ordeal just to spite the guy. I was cold and terrified and hungry in a nasty little cell, squished in with some utterly disgusting people who were very much under the influence of every substance known to man, and who could not keep their hands to themselves. I can't even mention what happened with the guard and me when I was first brought in - it was gross, and not something to be shared on a public forum - BUT I did see that guard a couple of weeks later. I was at the birthday party of a friend's mother (lots of mothers born that month, apparently), and the guard approached me and said, "Do I know you? You look familiar." I replied with a "no" and avoided her for the rest of the afternoon. I only spent one night in that cell, but it left a lasting impression in the worst way. I am NOT cut out for the life of a hardened criminal.
does my bedroom count?
