To say what occured was a tragedy is frankly an overstatement. To comprehend, and divulge into this ordeal I must disclose the origins of the situation. After the self revelation that I wasn't completely incapacitated, in the evening I decided to go skating with Rick and Midzt in Downtown L.A. Midzt got his board run over by a shuttle bus with massive tires during this safari through the "urban jungle," hence the session halted. While relaxing at Midzt's studio our conversations veered toward the topics of art, hiking, clothing design, and skating. Rick mentions that the East L.A. Skatepark (which is currently underconstruction) was going to be large and well designed spot.
Thunders are like a rock
The offer was that on the way home we could check it out, I obliged. A premeditated motive was already instilled. On the way back to Alhambra, we took a 3 minute detour to Belvedere Park to see the glory for our own eyes. We park inside the park, walk near the constructions and enter by scaling a rudimentary level fence. The tranny in the park was sublime. Prior to our 5 minute stay in the park I managed to snap these two photos:
The two photos
We returned to our car and resumed on our way home around 11:45 p.m. After pulling out of the Park parking lot we immediately notice a narc car across the street park (w/ the engine on and his lights off) and we calmly continued to make a left at the intersection when we noticed that there was a police car at to on the right side of the intersection. Then while we made our left another cop car appeared from the midnight mist and flashed his lights!
We pull over. The cop comes over and asks for Rick's license and registration while utilizing his flashlight for optimum observation purposes. When Rick gives him the information and the officer asks two questions resulting in an legally permitted search of the vehicle(they found two markers). I'm sitting in the vehicle, slightly perplexed at Rick's rationale and the officer's intentions, when I am abruptly told to exit the vehicle and am being forced into an unauthorized search by the Los Angeles County Sheriffs. I resist with words and claim I did not give consent.
"We don't need your consent!" The officer retorted. "You're wearing baggy clothing. . . and look like a tagger"
After hearing that I was utterly confused for the reason that I was wearing a small v-neck, a 4star beanie, some high top vans, and tight pants. Social Profiling is asinine! I'm getting searched and all I have is my camera, phone, keys, wallet, and my skateboard in the trunk. The brute pats me down with carlesness and drops my camera. I loudly informed him of his actions and my dissatisfaction. I think Rick laughed. The officer immediately realized his error and attempted to rearrange it in my pocket but it fumbled out of his favor three times; for he was clumsier than I perceived. In the name of agitation, I also requested him to place my wallet properly into my back right pocket while he was attempting to do a background check on my clean record. After a brief exchange regarding my information (name, dob, etc. . .) two other Sheriff's begin to aggressively interrogate me.
"What crew are you from? What's your name? What do you write?"
I was shocked and appalled at this barrage and told them in all honesty, "I don't do graffiti and can barely draw stick figures!"(for the record I'm a slightly beyond this stage) As the conversation continued, they quickly grew weary of my rapid fire quips filled with the innuendo of an intellect (as many do) and cuffed me; claiming, "We got a legal attorney over here."
They put me in the back seat, without reading my rights to me, in one of the seven Sheriffs' cars that would be pulled over throughout the duration of this debacle. Soon after Rick was also cuffed and placed in the backseat of a separate car. During the brief down time I recalled that my camera remained in my possession. I sleekly attempted to take the memory card out of my camera while handcuffed, a reminiscent of James Bond flashed through my head. I was barely able to nearly remove the case when the Sheriff reappeared. He asked for the camera and phone, to which I directed him into the proper pockets.
I was trapped in a cop car with no audible interaction with anything but K-ROQ! I thought I was in a mental asylum.
All I could imagine was that the officers (at any given time 3-7 cop cars filled) were viewing the photographs in my camera and saying: "Damn, this smart ass is fucking DEMENTED!" (A statement which I may have possibly given assent to).
Concluding the extended period of non-communication was a Sheriff asking me if the car was too warm. Apparently the heater in Rick's car was on the highest level and he was sweating profusely. I let him know that I was impartial but asked that he opened my door so that I could orally remove mucous due to my "acute chronic bronchitis." He obliged and directed me in the manner which I was to position my body. I hocked the biggest lougie I could (which was meager at most) and tried to spit it out. It unexpectedly attatched itself to my lip! I let it dangle around and feigned that I was unable to remove it. After a "strenuous" 30 seconds, it magically fell and I was forced yet again into solitude.
I was finally given my rights! When asked to waive my rights, I firmly stated that I wished to have them remain instilled. This irritated all of the Sheriffs. They assumed that I would waive my rights immediately and that they would drop a bomboardment of verbal accusations leading to my guilt. Without my knowledge, Rick waived his rights.
Due to my intrigue with statistics and probability, I began to notice that I would get one vist everytime Rick would get five or six. I presumed he waived his rights and feared that the sheriffs' would take advantage of their fortune. Perhaps they intentionally isolated and neglected my prescence due to my defensive behavior. To my dismay, Rick's compusure, confidence, and general knowledge of legal and criminal activity would significantly aid to our benefit.
Throughout this period the photographs in my phone and camera were being viewed (I think I had already taken like 400) while I kept my head up and a smile on my face. What ensued was perhaps the funniest thing I have ever bared witness to/been directly involved with. I had visits from two different Sheriff's trying to play "good cop/bad cop" in order to persuade me to waive my rights. While desparately trying to holding my laughter in, I informed them that their unconvincing and futile performance would not suffice under any situation. The supervising Sheriff came in and said, "It doesn't matter officer, we're gonna book them anyway!" as if to draw some type of emotional reaction leading to a last ditch effort to waive my rights for his jelly donut eating cunt ass!
It failed. . .I wasn't too bummed because I was thinking about how ludicrous it would be to go to jail for looking at a fucking skatepark! During my downtime I decided that I would flip a coin to see who to call: My grandmother or my parents. I would have preferred to call neither and sit out whatever bullshit sentence they give you for looking at a skatepark, but felt that it was imperative to inform them.
The Supervisor returned and with a recording device. (Note: I was never informed, until the end, as to what I was being held under and could only assume it was graffiti) "Why don't you want to talk? Are you gonna tell me what happened in the bowl or not? This could all be over if you waived your rights and let us know what really happened?" I told him that I am going to exercise my rights to the fullest extent and that I had no idea what he was talking about. My legal stance is: DENY EVERYTHING! (Note: This does not pertain to my political, skateboard, or lifestyle stances). I also told him, "For the record, Rick and I had no involvement or affiliation with any of the vandalism that has occured in this area or in this park." Then asked him a couple of questions, "What if I should talk? What do you want me to do? What do you need me to tell you? What do you need to hear to end this?" He stated, "I am not in the position to tell you this. . ." turned off the recorder and made for a hasty retreat.
While serving my sentence of audio torture and attempting to remain calm and composed Rick was working his magic. The officers were questioning him what looked like two and three at a time. He answered all his questions poignantly stressing our innocence. His confidence allowed him to claim, "My friend and I are innocent. You could put a lie detector on both of us right now and we'll pass." He also said that the sheriff's were claiming I write "GIZMO" or "ONYX" and that they knew I was guilty because of the two photographs I snapped while half asleep. His rebuttal was that I was a good kid and I go to school, asserting he veers away from any form of ignorance. They also asked him if he did any of the grafitti. To which Rick responded, "I own a $50,000.00 business, do you think that I'm gonna paint a bomb in an area underconstruction with two markers where no one would ever see it?"
Rick further explicated, "Plus that shit is Toy."
"I know what "TOY" is!" One of the whitest Sheriffs on the block claimed, appearing out of touch with the subcultures vernacular.
"Then why would I paint it."
They probably asked Rick a million more absurd questions about everything and anything before realizing that the case was going no where. He was also probably informed of the charges they were attempting to bring forth much earlier than I. To which he assured the Sheriffs that they could do an investigation, which they would find absolutely no evidence that would lead to our guilt.
HE WAS FUCKING RIGHT!
They did an investigation while we were being held under conspiracy of commiting vandalism and found nothing that would assist them in completing the arrest. There were seven cop cars where we were pulled over in addition to the investigation unit that was to explore the "scene of the crime"(how cliche). By this time I was wondering, "How much money and man power are they putting into trying to put us in Jail?"
The Sheriff that originally searched me came back and told me of my good fortune. Then of my misfortune, "Thomas, I mean, Tomas we didn't catch you this time but next time you're gonna "get caught slippin'." I let him know that I had no recollection of anything I did that would lead to such a circumstance. Then he unexpectedly confronted me with, "Where's all the dope at? Or did you already smoke it? I saw what you had in your pictures"
I couldn't help but laugh! I reminded him that he had been informed earlier of my "acute chronic bronchitis" which is already debilitating my lung capacity and the fact that I was not associated with the drugs and paraphernalia photographed. I couldn't help but note that if he had nonreceptive observation skills or a short term memory I could understand his failure to note that the drugs came from a backpack of a young man I photographed while holding the backpack. To futher reiterate my innocence I told him I photographed everything of significance involving my daily interaction with urban society. He immediately shut the fuck up and left.
Finally, I was informed that I was two receive two citations; one for being in a park after posted hours and the other for trespassing a gated area, which is apparently a misdemeanor. The Sheriffs chilled out and I had three different ones come up to me asking about my education and what school I went to(They already knew because I have a few Cal State Long Beach stickers on my board). One went so far as to ask if I was in a Frat, pretty bummed at the question I simply told him, "No."
I was finally released from the vehicle and legally informed that I was being held under suspicion of a felony count of Vandalism. I provoked one of the Sheriff's to express his undying hatred for Jack FM and was granted the freedom from the enslavement of handcuffs.
I signed my tickets, and informed all of the remaining Sheriffs that I wanted their badge numbers for legal reference. Just to let them know I wasn't fucking around with them and was serious. In reality, I was and just felt like teasing them for violating my personal property and attempting to wrongfully rob me of my civil liberties.
When all was said and done, it was a little past 1 a.m. I was exhausted and slightly upset. I was also relieved that I didn't go to jail and court for the lamest reason ever. Now, I have a misdomeanor, I have to do community service, and am currently searching for employment in return for financial compensation to pay off my tickets.
The Mez, "Staba’s here for tomorrow’s Open House. He’ll be schmoozing it up with the top retailers and distributors in the biz. If you fancy yourself in that category and would like to shake Staba’s hand yourself, stop by." That's the second thing I did after throwing him a couple punches.
Carroll and I have the same camera
JKL's a skaterat, his Indy's have concave! 
