3 Arrests, A Police Lineup, and a 2-Day Trial (Part 4)

PART 4 - MY 3RD ARREST

Here are parts 1, 2, and 3, in case you wanna read about this fuckery from the beginning. 

For the longest time, I thought I got away with it like potato chip companies putting mad air in their product and honestly, why shouldn’t I have? The case barely had legs, I actually was innocent, and so much happened in that year after my police line-up that I actually forgot about it — I did a couple of big shows, learned how to cook quite well during peak COVID, tried to forget the time I went in for a handshake but the other guy went for a fist bump and we ended up playing a game of 5, 10, 15, and the main thing of all, I finally made the move out of Kowloon side after 10 years to Sheung Wan which was literally 30 seconds away from Yardbird. 

Side story - let me talk about how big of a change this was. I lived in a 6/F walk up in Yau Ma Tei at the time and my building made the news for all the wrong reasons: https://www.dimsumdaily.hk/police-raid-drug-den-on-reclamation-street-in-mong-kok-9-arrested/ Even if you didn’t click the link, the link title says it all. Long story short, my downstairs neighbours had an operational train ran on them by the police and they got caught with a lil’ bit of heroin, meth, paraphernalia, unsolicited pictures of targiers, all that. Some of these mfs tried to jump out the window but realised they didn’t have health insurance so they walked back in to get arrested LOL if you thought your walk of shame at 2pm out of Buddha Lounge was bad then I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as theirs. This happened a month after I moved out and honestly, I have so much shit to say about this. 

To the drug dealers. Firstly, WHY the fuck would you place your lookout in FRONT of your door and not OUTSIDE our actual fucking building? You’re paying this mf to literally stare at the wall and listen to people coming up the stairs. What the fuck is he looking out for? Cockroaches? Jehovah’s Witnesses? My OOTD? What if he hears police running up, what’s he gonna do, bang on the door and say “sorry boss, we had a good run”? Bruh, sometimes this mf had airpods on!? What kind of low budget production was this drug movie? It felt like some Gen Z kid with a Monster Energy snapback on named Kyle was gonna pop up at any given time like “it’s just a prank broski, it’s a prank”. Like I had to question my career choices and wonder if I could have made it as a kingpin if Pablo Messcobar over here is making money? How do you and your whole gang share a grand total of 2 brain cells? Now look, your lookout did such a good job looking at the wall and jamming to Andy Lau that you, him, and the gang got matching jumpsuits in Lai Chi Kok prison. To the lookout - you couldn’t raise your hand in the Drug Dealers Anonymous meeting before it was adjourned and make a suggestion like “uh, sir, I think it would make more sense if I sat outside the building and not actually in it”? You could have been a hero, gotten high-fives and standing ovations, gotten a sick nickname like “Eagle Eye” and really prospered in the drug dealing community, gone home proudly with a Good Job star sticker on your chest to show your mom but now look, you gotta lookout for your soap being dropped instead. 

Secondly, why the fuck would you sell to white kids? Not even the white kids that know how to get down cuz they grew up here, but skraight expats and college kids? We in YAU MA FUCKING TEI during COVID my guy, do you know how much of a red flag that is? After dark, the closest expat is 10 blocks away at a Temple Street daipaidong paying $218 for a plate of shrimp to “get in touch with local culture” hahaha. Shoutout to my 廟街 hustlers I see y’all, I hope you selling I <3 HK T-Shirts at 96% margins to these tourists again to make up for the pandemic Ls. Nah but really though, I got so tired of seeing these curly-haired junkies with backpacks on in my staircase, acting like they weren’t buying drugs and acting all casual while walking up a dark, grimey staircase in Yau Ma Tei hood at 2 in the morning. You’re about as casual as Crossfit people trying their best not to talk about Crossfit. 

To the police… REALLY? It took y’all more than a year to run an entire operation on the Toys R’ Us Kids of drug dealers? You guys really had names and faces pinned on bulletin boards, set up wiretaps inside tennis balls, deciphered criminal slang, and only managed to find $98,300HKD worth of drugs? That’s like, 6 bags of coke in 2023 after inflation. LOL jk. And why so specific? What’s the extra $300 for, did you seize two bottles of Evian water and a bag of capsicums from Citysuper while you were in there too? Who tf calls bell peppers capsicums you ask? ME, only on this blog because I do whatever the fuck I want. These mfs were Tomfoolerying around for so long the whole block knew what the fuck was going on. It’s like being the last one invited to the house party… and it’s your fucking house like how are y’all so behind on the times? Y’all never wondered why the Jean-Pierres and Alejandros suddenly started putting on their brave beanies and wandering around the hood without a signed permission slip from their parents? Matter of fact I forbid y’all to call that shit an “operation”. I’ve seen fire drills with more suspense. And to think I pay my tax dollars for this? I mean I still haven’t paid in 2 years, but again, that is besides my point. The HKPF really needs to hire Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan to do a sweep of these neighbourhoods and kick criminals down bamboo scaffoldings and shit and just call it Operation Rush Hour 4D. If I was a drug dealer I would be shook knowing that a black man and a Chinese man might fly through my window at any moment and I might take bamboo to the face like a panda bear.

ANYWAY I got super carried away sorry, I am just extremely passionate about crime and incompetency that I had to speak on it. My new place though is amazing. Nobody pisses in the elevators, there’s an actual lobby even though the guard is off for lunch 22 hours of the day (no really, he’s actually only there for lunch that’s how safe it is), the neighbourhood is quaint and quiet and get this - I seen a white guy with a dog get out the lift once. The police around here are so bored with the lack of crime they check me every week, sometimes twice a day. It’s like I’m their fucking fridge that they will open, not see anything inside, and then open back up 5 minutes later hoping I would have something different. Where are the triads on plastic chairs? Why does it not smell like incense in the hallways? Why can’t I hear sirens? You mean to tell me that the women here actually don’t have pimps? Is this the feeling of…. safety? It actually got some time to get used to. But yeah, you can understand why this big move to the island for the first time in my life really made me feel safe, and sheltered. So when I was thrown right back into the epifuck of the law it really caught me off guard. This is the time I got arrested at the airport coming back from Japan, which I think you should actually read here. From here, I will continue the story from the end of that piece. 

So at this point, I finish quarantine. I was scheduled to report to the police station closest to the airport at 8:00AM a week after my hotel release date and yeah, again, I was shrouded in this cushiony Sheung Wan bullshit that I underestimated it. I thought it was gonna be a regular check-in like before because I “tried to flee” the country (LOL trust me if you haven’t read that story you should for context) and that I would be done in an hour, tops, as always. So what did I do? Of course I drank. The night before, I went to my bro Sulai’s SpiceMrkt pop-up at Elgin Street and we ate and drank like a mf. Quick plug, Sulai and Bas make some of the best Indian fusion food around. Anyway, and then Manny being Manny was like “oh, you gon’ see popo tomorrow? Just drink you gon’ be aight”, and me being Sheung Wan Shtupid was like yeah fuck it, kanpai, and got home at like 4. Seriously, I think everybody should live somewhere shady at least once in their life because it teaches you to always keep your guard up. My guard was all the way the fuck down like I lived in Discovery Bay my whole life. Somebody could have said I got ketchup on my shirt and I would have looked down only to get my nose flicked. Amateur shit. I was ashamed of myself. 

The next morning I get up, hungover again, barely any sleep, (seriously I never fucking learn I deserve to be like one of those white children on leashes) and take the Airport Express to the airport. And I always thought there was a station inside the premiseseses (shoutout to Mr. Wong’s vernacular) but nah, some airport narc told me I had to take another taxi from there to some concentration camp looking place that was actually closer to Tung Chung MTR so I was bitter as fuck that I wasted $100HKD on Airport Express. Keep in mind, I am still in this lull state of feeling like, ain’t shit gonna happen, and I’m 30 minutes late because I was never built to be an outstanding citizen of society that is capable of clocking in someplace at 8AM (seriously, I sleep at 8AM sometimes), and like the cheap frugal bitch that I am, I am more invested in the fact that I spent $100 on a train ticket when I could have just taken MTR. In my head, I was counting the amount of siu mai i could have gotten with the 80 something dollar difference. It was 60. Oh what a luxury to be pissed over such small things. 

I walk into this police station-concentration camp collaboration exhibit and then my anxiety finally starts kicking in. I mean first of all, this is DEFINITELY the place where they first take drug mules who just got arrested at the airport tryna smuggle a bunch of coke disguised as baby formula which is like, so 1970s, and if so, you deserve to get arrested. Secondly, this station is in the middle of nowhere, literally, and also has a 3 star review on Google. That’s a C minus grade and as an Asian this already made me feel extremely uncomfortable. Being in the middle of nowhere meant that there are no walk-ins, appointments only and I realised… besides the front desk, all the cops were specifically there.. for me. They literally rode their cars from the city specifically there for me and holy fuck I am late so they’re already PISSED. I hand in my papers and I didn’t even get to sit down as I was immediately called into the back of the station through a door that said Personnel Only or some exclusive shit like that which I did not want to be inclusive in and I’m immediately sat in the interrogation room. Something was off. The way the officers are moving, it’s like I was the one who disguised coke in baby formula cans and they’re disgusted by my unoriginality. There are three CIDs. The main one, who isn’t that old but his hair is giving up like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons, starts pacing AROUND me and literally says “Oh man, you are in so much trouble you know that?” Wait…. what? The second one is a tomboy with the can I speak to your manager haircut who keeps nodding and shaking her head with a frown like she gets paid to be a stern bobblehead. I forgot what the 3rd one looked like, but he wasn’t entertaining, like F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Nope, not taking that one back. I thought sitcom stood for situational comedy, not sit and completely not laugh. Anyway. Anxiety on 100000. I thought this fleeing the country thing that I was laughing about with Manny the night before was really about to put me inside for a few years. I plead my case though. Officer, I was literally LET OUT of the city, I didn’t know I couldn’t leave and had to report to police before I did? Officer, I was told that my case would be dropped for now and that you guys would call me if anything changed? Both of these are facts so I was fucking clueless. 

Then he drops bomb after bomb. First, apparently I was WANTED status for quite a while because they banged on my old address in Yau Ma Tei and I moved away already at that point, all safe, snug, and stupid as fuck in Sheung Wan. And apparently they tried to call my phone plenty of times to try and find me (this was absolute bullshit because I pick up all numbers that start with 3, 8, 5, whatever, for THIS specific reason just to hang up on these fucking PROMISE and UA loan sharks) Second, this means my case was open as fuck like Port during COVID and I was fully being prosecuted. I had so many questions. If I was so fucking WANTED then why wasn’t I arrested on the spot during all those routine police checks? Again, if I was such a threat, why the fuck didn’t y’all over at Narcs & Recreation arrest me at immigration when I was leaving? Why are you being so mean? Do you have my Mr. Wong’s number? Why did your hair get divorced? How did it feel when Neil Armstrong planted a flag on your head? Can I speak to HER manager? I had so many questions. I was arrested again right there on the spot, for the 3rd fucking time and had my charges read out to me. This shit was getting old man. 

All this time I’m being treated like a fucking criminal by these CIDs. They didn’t handcuff me but they definitely used a lot more force escorting me to their narc car. Now I’m in an unmarked white car again, hungover, 3 narcs and me, en route to the Central/Western Police Station. I mean… it’s dysfunctional as fuck if you ask me that these officers also had to come to bumfuck county in Chep Lap Kok just to arrest a Japanese guy who.. literally lives in Central/Western. This car ride is different from the first time I got arrested after Ozu. I don’t even bother to try and text anybody, I feel like they’d actually put cuffs on me if I tried. No lie, I was miserable. And scared. They kept emphasising on this fleeing the city thing and I thought they were gonna add some charges. I was dying to text my lawyer Kwanye like “SOS CUZZZ” but forreal, I was too scared. 

We get to Central/Western which was quite a relief because at least I feel like I can actually reconnect with Mr. Wong if shit goes down and I’m led through the same doorways and past the same cells me and Roberto were making fun of the Teletubbies in, to the same room where I’m stripped of all my belongings. At this point I’m so familiar with the station that I’m making the right turns before my escorting officer does and I don’t know if that’s a flex. I’m led back upstairs to run my fingerprints, again, and get another few mugshots and usually deja vu is a somewhat eerie but pleasant feeling but this time around the guy taking my fingerprints isn’t as gentle and I do not feel the same sensuality and connection coursing from his hands like the last guy so I am totally turned off. I have a lot more hand tattoos since the last time I got arrested at this point and they are literally adding descriptions of my tattoos in my database file. I try to lie and say that my swallow tattoo is actually a sparrow but I don’t think it was very effective cuz all the guy put in the database was “bird”. SMH put some respect on the species homie. Now I’m finally put in another interrogation room with Mr. Burns only and an interpreter. Seriously, what the fuck is with these interpreters Japanese is not my first language ffs. Somebody bring me an interpreter to interpret this bullshit that I gotta deal with for the 3rd time. 

I was being polite to this mf Mr. Burns the whole time cuz he angrily dropped all the bad news on me at the Airport Police Station so I didn’t give him a reason to do some unfair shit. But it did feel kinda hopeless at that point. Burns gotta input this new case into my file and explain why I’m being prosecuted, when I need to show up to court and all that and that’s when, I realise after, he FIRST looks at my file and his demeanour completely changes. He simply goes, “Ha? You’re in here for a bar fight?” And I blurt out “YEAH, and I told you I didn’t even do anything!!!” I guess he realised I was telling the truth and that I actually didn’t really do anything wrong with my case and that these two, good for nothing waste of life pieces of shit really were starting a whole lot of nothing. And this whole “fleeing the country” thing was laughable at this point. Seriously, what kind of low, self-esteemed criminal would I be to feel the need to FLEE THE CITY for… pushing a drunk guy out of my bar. Like oh shit, pack your bags, somebody call FedEx cuz I’m moving to Azerbaijan. I put on my best hurt puppy face and act like he actually hurt my feelings by being mean to me the whole time. I’m sensitive, my feelings were hurt. There wasn’t much acting involved. He goes “Diu, this so pointless” just like everybody else I encountered in the system, and says the first nice thing to me all day: “I think you have a good chance to beat this one.” I mean, Mr. Burns you could have read my file while I made you wait 30 minutes in the Airport Police Station so we could have been friends by now but whatever, I’ll take the kindness anyway, but just so you know I roasted your hairline in my head the whole time in the back of your car. Seriously tho your hairline make you look like you’re related to jellyfish. 

Anyhoo, the paperwork is done, the interpreter was as useful as a lifeguard at the Olympics, and I’m told by Mr. Burns to report to Eastern Court a month from then for my plea at the courtroom. He finally kindly explains to me that this is where I can plead guilty for a lesser charge or plead not guilty to go to trial and the rest I should discuss with my lawyers. Burns actually wishes me good luck and then I give a final wave to him and his sunflower hairline and I am escorted out of the station without having to do any time in the cell again. I think it’s worth mentioning here that I got to work ON TIME, after literally being arrested, prosecuted, transported, and processed so to all you youngins in F&B who can’t even make it to an afternoon shift on time, y’all should be super ashamed of yourself. “No cap” as you kids would say. 

Anyway this story was only supposed to be in 4 separate parts but I talked so much shit about irrelevant things that it might have to be 5. Or maybe 6 cuz pre-trial was also a whole different system that I had to learn about. I feel like I’m just writing these to finish the story at this point but I hope it is still as entertaining for y’all. I guess DM me and tell me you fw these because insecure men need validation sometimes. 

Yeah definitely will be 6 parts of this cuz pre-trial was like a month process and trial was 2 days. Stay tuned I guess if you care?