Friday, September 24, 2004

for your amusement 9.24.04

last night after having dinner with misanthrope anna, i went to wait by my father's car, he was not yet out of work. i usually do this when i want a ride home, and it's easier than ringing up to the lab where he works, standing outside, or sitting inside.

i went to the car, next to a tree and went to my bag to look for a book. apparently the way i turned looked a little dodgy and a cop car, which i didn't see amdist the traffic on 3rd ave ("you looked like you were trying to hide from us") disgorged three passengers to check me out.

i thought that was a little silly, on 3rd avenue, a warm, busy thursday night, kids going to webster hall, kids walking to cafés, kids walking back to their dorms, to find one person to be looking dodgy. i suppose they were doing their job, and after all, i was wearing marge's gay-ass blue jeans and a 76ers shirt.

it was mostly without incident; the officer thought i was giving him attitude, because i was like, "serious. i look suspicious?! should i not stand here?" and was a little perturbed that they took my name for a record of the "incident." as my father cam up, they had checked his plates and determined that we have the same last name, so they could leave me be;

but i do worry about the fact that a couple of suspicious moments can be recorded and later strung together by an eager officer to create a "suspect"; i know of a person who called in a terror threat and when the police responded, there was a record of some other time he called in to report suspicious activity.

which is fine. record keeping is all good. but a speculative mind can start to wonder about abuses.

--addendum--


the lead officer also mentioned that they had to ask questions, in case there were any break ins. the unsaid part is "in case you look like a suspect," which is funny. i look like EVERY suspect. you know, between the ages of 17-30, 5'7"-5'10", 130-160 lbs. you know, average black guy. eben might remember our sophomore year of college, where there were flyers about some guy-- a thief i think, or a peeping tom-- who looked very much like me; someone tacked it on our suite door. kinda funny, kinda mean, mostly true.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dude, That's fucked up! - Silver