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I was walking home with a friend from Blockbuster video after dark in the mid 90s when we got jumped and had the poo poo beaten out of us. We took a shortcut home which was down a dimly lit residential side-street which ran parallel to train tracks. Figures emerged from the tracks and asked for a lighter. As they approached I could see in their eyes poo poo was about to go down so i braced the lighter in my hand and readied myself. I got 2 good shots on the one guy but I wasn't a fighter so we got rolled pretty bad. They took our jackets, wallets and money and left us on the curb. My buddy didn't even know his name as we walked back, he kept asking what happened and why his head hurt. We were covered in blood, our clothes were ripped and dirty, and my friend was walking very strangely like he had no balance (severe concussion). We approached a plaza on the way home and a taxi driver took notice and asked if we needed help and we said to call the cops. Big mistake. The police took us back to the station to get our reports, they sat us in seperate interrogation style rooms and brought us water and a warm cloth to wash off our faces. They then, for the next 3 hours, proceeded to grill us like criminals. They accused us of being in a drug deal gone wrong, they accused us of being gang memebers (We had moderately threatening heavy metal t-shirts on, i guess that means we are bad guys) who lost a fight with other gang members, anything they could to try and get a confession out of us. They even called the Blockbuster to confirm our whereabouts before the incident. They denied us any form of medical attention outside of the warm cloth and at the end I was losing my mind and calling them "loving tyrant cunts" and cursing out the police to their faces, on my feet leaning over the table with eye contact that could burn through steel. They explained that they were following up on reports of some break ins in the area and that we fit the description. I said a lot of things that would be absolutely hilarious in hind-site but I don't remember much else other than putting my friend in a taxi to get to the hospital and me walking 3 blocks home at 2 in the morning; beaten, covered in now-dried blood and a couple of clean streaks down my otherwise pulverized face. Service and Protection is not an accurate depiction of what we experienced that night.. Goddamn Hippy fucked around with this message at 15:33 on Apr 13, 2024 |
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Apr 13, 2024 15:30
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| # ¿ May 21, 2024 07:39 |
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