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

PART 2 - THE STATION

Part 1 is here in case you are lost. 

Why the FUCK I gotta get arrested!? What FUCKING evidence do they have against me? Who the FUCK does this guy think he is? Why the FUCK is there an ‘h’ in the word, ‘honest’? Who the FUCK killed Tupac and Biggie Smalls? I had so many questions. So I wake up the next morning, hungover but me being hungover is like Snoop being high so it’s about as suspenseful as paint drying, I’m just saying that to say I felt like shit the whole day with heightened anxiety. I was minding my own business in my own bed, staying outta trouble, counting my blessings and all that, you know, wholesome shit. Playing with my cat and talking to him about how inflation got me fucked up and all that. I get a text from my boss Manny and I didn’t even look at it yet but I just … knew, you know? Like when the teacher hands you your test paper faced down and her lips be tight. And yeah, sure enough, the police was called last night and I had to report to Ozu ASAP to be formally arrested and processed. I mean, aside from the fact that this mf Professor X hurt his damn self in an incident that he himself provoked, but I heard on the grapevine it was actually Meg from Family Guy who was hysterical and screaming at police saying that we needed to get arrested so here we fucking are. Oh trust me it gets worse, I don’t call women bitches cuz I was raised by my mom but for this one there’s a reason why I don’t hesitate whatsoever. In simple terms, both me and Roberto had to turn ourselves in. I don’t know if anybody else had to turn themselves in before but you know what you do when you’re hit with that ultimatum?

I took my sweet. ass. fuckin’ time. I went outside, looked at birds and shit. Fixed up the page margins on my resume. Folded a thousand origami cranes and wished food poisoning on all my enemies. Sat my cat down on some grown man shit, he nodded. He a G he seen worse. Nah but really though, I was scheduled to work at 4PM so I was up by 2, but both me and Roberto pulled up to Ozu at like 6. Fun fact, I was wearing the same hoodie all 3 times I got arrested. It lays banished in my closet as of now but if anybody wants a free jail tour complete with the fingerprint experience package hmu you can borrow it. So both me and Roberto finally show up to Ozu and sure enough, there’s 4 Anti-Triad detectives (LOLOL) waiting for us and somehow, Manny being Manny, is already laughing and buddy-buddy with them. For context, Manny is a Nigerian-Cantonese guy who speaks better Cantonese than anybody I know and this man somehow already has one of the officers’ number so he can stay updated on us when we go inside. I died laughing because he saved my detective’s name on his phone, simply as ... “popo” LOL even though he knew both his first and last name. No capitalization, no nothing. Just … “popo”. My guy’s name is Mr. Wong btw. They say whatever the fuck they gotta say: “you have the right to remain silent, everything you say may or may not be used against you in the court of law, 7k for a house like a cell and you really think we out here scared of jail blablabla” and then they just kinda held our shoulder because they didn’t want to put handcuffs on us and led us to their car which was parked right in front of Frank’s, which was kinda funny because all the homies inside were looking at us like yo nice car wait hold up something’s not right are you ok. If I learned one thing in this whole ordeal tho was that a lot of people in the system, especially the higher-ups, are quite nice because they let us use our phones in the narc car and they kept apologising saying this shit is pointless and that it’s all a formality. I fucks w all of em heavy, I hope they got promoted and are solving murders and shit now cuz we wasn’t it LOL. En route to Central & Western police station. 

Me and Roberto get there and if you’ve ever been arrested in LKF before, you’ll know they take you through like 3 doors that need to be opened via walkie-talkie and then you’re put in an office where there’s a bunch of 5-0 gathered around screens pretending to work but definitely got some other shit open on another tab. There’s 3 holding cells there if I remember correctly, and a long-term holding cell (more or less actual jail) on the right side which also opens up only when someone higher up is alerted. That’s where the toilet is at and it’s literally just a hole in the ground and there’s literally no space for any privacy let alone space to even pull an 8 ball of cocaine out the deep realm of your asshole but nevertheless, the officer stands like 2 Subway sandwiches away from you while you piss anyway. This area is kinda old and feels pretty hopeless tbh. We first get taken to separate interview rooms where we gotta forfeit all our belongings which is fine because I only have the $8 of change that Squidward dropped the night before on me anyway and then we’re taken upstairs away from this dungeon into what they called the “video room”. I’m just joking about the $8 btw, Manny made us take $1000 each out the Ozu till for bail money and for 2 years I actually kept at least $1000 cash on me at all times in case I get arrested again. I was institutionalised man. Just kidding, I just wanted to know how it feels to say that.

Now we’re at this video room and they call it that because that’s where they pull up CCTV footage of you fuckin’ somebody up and then ask you what happened as if it wasn’t just visually communicated to them in 360p. I learned most police work is just paperwork and just to get all the right documents they’re taking forever - me and Roberto are seated in two separate rooms but they bring us snacks and lemon tea to make sure we’re okay while we wait. I learned VLT is like their go-to drink because I was given lemon tea again on the 3rd time I got arrested LOL. Like I said, they were quite nice to us so I’m sorry for dropping For the City that song was directed towards the power trippin’ low-level cops not y’all elite mfs please forgive me. Anyway me and Roberto are munching on them Japanese butterfly pies and awaiting our fate and then our 4 homies come back up and finally the paperwork begins where we have to write our statement. 

Keep in mind I’m still a bit nervous at this point. I don’t really know what I’m in for and I know I was the only one that got caught on camera. And yeah sure maybe these mans fed me and gave me VLT but I’m still in police custody and I wasn’t tryna get the brakes beaten off of me off-camera. I mean I’m vibing with Mr. Wong but who knows if he a bipolar mf. If you got bipolar I’m not judging but I’m pretty sure five-o not supposed to be especially cuz they run around strapped all day. Side note, I think the police use Windows 95 or some shit cuz damn you would think they'd have iPads or something to solve crime in HD but nah, everything is done off a laptop they bought from a methhead in Sham Shui Po for a wrinkled $20 bill and a pack of Haw flakes. Anyway, you're asked to write out a whole bunch of formalities that declare that you aren’t mentally challenged and have more than 6 brain cells and that you understand everything that’s going on blablabla. Obviously I pass with flying colours and I’m not sure about Roberto but he out so I guess he did aight. LOL jk. Then they ask you shit about your life, like your age, occupation, criminal history, zodiac sign when the moon is strong, all that. Now here is the part that made me heavily fw these guys for life. At this point, my detective Mr. Wong takes over the writing while his superior carefully watched over his work like how Young Thug watches over Durkio’s studio sessions. They play the video of the altercation from all camera angles and at varying speeds. Clearly, I don’t do anything wrong except for the initial push to force Ironman forehead out of Ozu. They ask me “tell me exactly what happened right here”, indicating the moment I pushed the guy. I say politely … “I mean, officer, you can clearly see it here that this man was causing trouble so I had to push the guy out.”

To which, my guy replies in a heavy Cantonese accent, “Lo, lo, lo, LO, Yuwi. You don’t understen. You did LOT push him. You simply extend your right ahm to escort this troublemaker out of the premiseses”. Verbatim. Translation for people who can’t read in a Cantonese accent; he said “No, no, no, NO Yuri., You don’t understand. You did NOT push him. You simply extended your right arm to escort this troublemaker out of the premises.” 

In my head I was like “WORD MR. WONG, WORD!!!!” Yo Mr. Wong is HIM. He is THAT guy. He is THE Steph Curry of statements cuz he don’t fucking miss. I remember smiling and saying “Yes sir that’s exactly what happened.” I can hear from the next room Roberto chatting it up with his 2 officers. They’re fucking talking about his Naruto tattoo on his leg and how the first time he got arrested it was because he got so drunk he stole a pineapple bun from a bakery and they laughing and shit. Oh man we about to be freer than Morgan Freeman in Shawshank Redemption. Mr. Wong and his superior are both struggling to write my statement in English, scratching out mistakes and asking me how to spell certain words every few seconds. So for people that don’t know, every time there’s something scratched out or unclear on a statement, you have to sign your name next to it as official “proof” that nobody meddled with the document after it was written. 

I ain’t never signed so many fucking autographs in my life. The police couldn’t get enough of me they love me up in that bih. But honestly, it was kinda cute cuz I could tell Mr. Wong was quite proud of his own English work at the end and his superior Young Thug seemed to have approved. The statements are done and it’s kinda bittersweet because our homies have to all go and do actual police work now which was….to go arrest people like our friends LOLOL. This is the point where we have to leave the comfort of these upstairs offices into a room where they take your mugshot along with your charge, and then fingerprint you. It was lowkey a sensual moment as one of the officers gently took my hands in his…and entered me into the criminal database. Thrn he did a romantic photoshoot of my mug and commented on my hand tattoos. If I was gay I would have fallen for him. Mr. Wong pops back in and scoops me up like a child from kindergarten before he sets out to potentially arrest my other youngin Sypaul for the 3rd time that year and walks me to my cell. He reassures me that I won’t be long in here and pats my shoulder and apologises again for all this hassle. Like I said, real one. I hope your wife makes you good soup with every dinner because you deserve that shit sir. 

Now me and Roberto are sitting alone in neighbouring cells and the time is like, 9PM at this point on a Saturday and we’re wondering how the bar in Ozu is doing with two of their only bartenders in jail LOL. How the cells are laid out is, three of them are located right in front of these officers that will never make it so if you turn to your right you’re eye to eye with them and if you need anything, whether it’s a phone call, the toilet, or a hug, you gotta ask them to let you out first. I don't talk so highly about these officers because these were the mean ones, even meaner because… well they don't even get to go patrol and flex hahahah I bet your office chair warm af huh. Both me and Berts are hungover and there’s food in the cell but we don’t eat it - it’s 餐蛋飯 that’s been left out since before COVID and you know when you keep hot food in styrofoam too long it start sweating and I ain’t tryna eat food that’s been working out after it died already. There ain’t shit to do in there and I actually manage to fall asleep for a little bit until I was woken up by a new guy in my cell. This guy’s name, I find out after, is Jason and Jason is panicking and super agitated, which is pissing me off because I was actually at peace with my claustrophobia then this antsy mf gotta walk in fuckin’ up my vibe. He keeps on begging the officer for his phone because he needs to make some calls and he’s deadass clawing on the glass like a fucking fiend like get it together bro the Walking Dead dragged the script long enough. 

Eventually we talk because… when you’re in a cell with somebody else and he damn near start crying because he don’t have his phone you start wondering if it’s serious or it’s because he missing out on all the good Pokemon. I find out that while he was on the way to Zentral, he got picked up on a cigarette fine that he didn’t pay for a year so they just sent him straight to jail and now…he’s missing out on a fun club night. Immediately I start contemplating whether I should stab this guy to get my street credibility up because I am in a cell with the Park N’ Shop value pack of crime and I felt disrespected just being in his presence but I am a nice guy at heart so I empathise. Later on it starts becoming happy hour in the cells and eventually Roberto and his cellie have to move into me and Jason’s - turns out Roberto’s cellie got arrested for having a green Octopus card for the elderly even tho he’s like 19 and again, both me and Roberto met eyes and probably thought the exact same thing. LOL jk. This shit was short-lived though because we all get separated in like 10 minutes - me and Roberto start getting rowdy like the Ozu Boys that we are and we start actually having fun roasting tf out of Tinky-Winky and Po and then the main failure in the precinct with no stripes yelled at us and made us all sit in separate cells again. Oh well it was fun. 

At around 2 or 3AM, finally after like 7 hours in the cell, Roberto gets called up to leave and there’s the first glimmer of hope. I don’t know why they take Roberto first cuz I’m cute too but I don’t take it personal, maybe I’m just not their type, and I patiently sit around waiting my turn and at last. I was told I had to check in monthly just as a formality and that the case may be reopened again but not to really stress too much. I pay my bail money, put all my jewellery back on like Allen Iverson fresh outta TSA, say goodbye to Dipsy and Laa-Laa and one of the lesser failures in the office just points to the door and says just leave out that way. I start fast-walking the fuck out of there like this, open up the door and BAM here comes Manny jumping out from behind the corner trying to knee my balls first thing like some wombat on crack hahahahahah. This fucking guy not only came to pick me and Roberto up from jail but waited around the corner hiding for like 30 minutes just to try and pop out and knee my balls. Keep in mind this mf was 34 at the time already hahahahah. I wasn’t in there 12 hours but there really is something different about the air in the cell because fresh air felt so fucking good. There’s not much to say after this but me and Manny taxi’d home and I got some curry down my place and I texted all the people who messaged me because apparently word spread faster than…COVID (sorry I wrote this for you guys on the following day and it's currently 6:23AM so my similes are lazy again) and I passed the fuck out in my own bed and not a bench. I guess the moral of this story is… don't let your guard down leaving jail cuz there might always be a 34 year-old black Chinese man waiting to flying knee your ballsack. What a fucking day for a hungover man with anxiety.

FUCK BRO THIS WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING