I totally agree with Big C for once.
I got arrested years ago-- slow down, gents. Not for this.
The cops did not announce themselves when I was wandering around an abandoned building taking pictures. In fact, the guy that walked up on me was a man not in uniform. I ran, because I was absolutely terrified that it was a dangerous person as I was in a moderately dangerous area. I ran to my car about a half block away and was clutching my pepper spray. Finally, some one gets it in their head to say something. I lay down on the wrong side, not knowing how to get arrested or thinking that I'd done anything wrong.
Cop gives me a good beating by kicking my ribs and back in as I'm turning over at his instruction. He screams at me, "You stupid bitch, you just got another charge slapped against me along with my foot." Completely inappropriate, because I was a teensy seventeen year old white girl in a bright pink sundress.
The cop questioned me for forty five minutes... I just glared angrily at him. He explained that the area I had trespassed in was one of Baton Rouge's meccas for prostitution, a brothel. I think he was trying to figure out if I was being trafficked or something, but I mean, c'mon!! I had a camera, and I was wearing chuck taylor's. He would've been better off asking if I had pot on me. He also kept injecting malaprops connected to literature to appeal to me, because I suppose I look artistic. I wish I could've opened my mouth to correct him, but being a smart lady, I knew better. The only thing I did once my paperwork had all been handed to me and they had release me was, "Thanks for making me miss church. Now, I have to go to Confession for two things."
They ended up completely dropping the charges, because those dumb cocksuckers listed my address as the place I got arrested at...or maybe my friend's lawyer dad had something to do with it, I'm not sure, was too young to understand those things. Remarkable how much I had to endure for them to fuck up on something as easy as writing the proper address.