Crime

I can count on three fingers the number of times that I’ve voluntarily entered a police station. In all three incidents, I was dealing with nothing more than a parking concern—once to pay a parking ticket, and twice to obtain a parking permit. Between my house and the precinct desk I made a special point to not break any laws, which is more difficult and nerve racking than a blind date (which I’ve never been on, nor will ever go on, but I imagine that it—like entering a police station on purpose—would require more than two beta blockers to accomplish).

It’s not that I’m an awful person. Many crimes I leave to others—murder, rape, racketeering (because I don’t know how), kidnapping, prostitution and crack dealing. The smaller “crimes”—speeding, pot smoking, bootlegging, piracy, vandalism—are obviously fine to commit. Essentially, I still act under what my friend Lorraine calls “the assumption that criminals are cool,” because they are.

However, in the case of myself, criminality is only “cool” when I don’t get “caught.” Hence my hesitation to voluntarily place myself in an environment where each and every person around me is uniformed, armed and looking for a perp. What if I forgot to take the one hitter out of my belt buckle? What if they saw me drive up AND smelled the booze on my breath? What if when I pull out my driver’s license, a joint falls out of my wallet? What if the K-9 is on duty and I’m wearing/carrying ANYTHING that’s been inside my apartment? What if I go in for a parking permit and I end up at Rikers?

Fortunately, parking permits are hardly official so I can avoid frequenting the cop shop. Oh wait, this expires on 2-7-2009? I thiiiink you meant 12-17-2009. Mr. Sharpie will just take care of that reeall quick like, athankyou.

And in other good fortune, despite my emphasis of the term “voluntarily” before “entering a police station,” the truth is, I’ve never actually “involuntarily” entered a police station. I’m not sure what it takes to get arrested, but I can tell you with confidence, that the following things will not land you in jail, even when witnessed by an officer of the law:

 1. Drinking Franzia box-of-wine while driving a car

2. Urinating at a bus stop

3. Sleeping on a public L.A. sidewalk

4. Lighting a pillowcase full of human feces on fire on a stranger’s stoop

5. 90 in a 65/65 in a 30

6. Smoking bowls and eating Randy’s donuts in a car

7. “Borrowing” a police Segway, ramming it into a curb

 The most major of the “somehow avoided jail” schemes shall not be mentioned. Just imagine the most white trash event that you can and then remember that I’m dressed as Garth Algar when the Illinois State Police (fuckin Nazis) roll up.

 Let’s pretend for a second, that I was actually charged for any of the above events. Peeing/sleeping on a sidewalk is probably just a simple fine. A DUI, might be like one night in jail, but if it was followed immediately by a drug conviction, I might be looking at a few weeks to a couple years, depending on the level of communication between states. Jail is something that I’d like to believe I’d be pretty good at.

 Now I can’t bake a visually attractive cake, artfully arrange throw pillows on a bed or fold clothes with any degree of neatness, but I know, that prison is the one thing I could out-Martha Stewart, Martha Stewart on. Seriously, if that bitch made it a day, I could surely do a decade. Terrible food? Fine. Shitty bunks? Fine. Public bathrooms? Fine. I mean, I went to college, I know how bad it can get. Besides, never having to attend class, write a paper or try and understand biology would more than make up for that extra degree of filth and increased lack of privacy. Plus, I think they divvy out jobs in prison, so technically, it’d be a step up for me as far as societal contributions go.

Admittedly, the roommate situation might be a little hard to handle. Sure, I would again like to compare it to college, living with a complete stranger in a confined space, but it’s not the same. It’s like, yeeeaa that random girl from Jersey that slept above you in college, miiight have stolen your hairbrush, but at least she’d never rape you with it.