PHATANG!

 After the two weeks, I was given my walking papers and

I thought I recognized a fellow jailbird...  It's the stare.  I spent a
night in the pokey in Somerville, MA, for aggravated parking.  This was
about 25 years ago and my wife and I lived thither.  I was supposed to
go to a club and interview and review a local band.  I arrived at the
joint early, around 7:00 p.m., to find nary a parking spot to be found.
 Across the street from the place was a deserted shopping center with
an empty parking lot that would easily accommodate a thousand cars.
There were no "No Parking" signs   and several cars were already parked
up close to the street, far away from the stores, so I pulled in
amongst them and made to leave.

As I was locking the car, a black, 1960's era Cadillac with blacked-out
windows rolled up beside me.  The window slid down far enough for me to
see a pair of eyes and hear a voice from within say "Move your car."
"Why?" says I.  "Because I said to move your car." the eyes said.  "Who
are you?" I says.

"I'm the guy who told you to move your car." the eyes said.  "You still
didn't tell me why I should move the car." I says.  "One more time,"
the eyes say, "Are you going to move your f***ing car?"  And I says,
"One more time, are you going to tell me why I should move my f***ing
car?"  "THAT'S IT!" says the eyes, throwing open the door and jumping
out of the car to reveal themselves as a pair of eyes attached to a
face that rode above a rather agitated gentleman in full Somerville
Police Department regalia.

One half-nelson, a two-block frog-march and a running stream of snappy
"Goddamned Hippy" banter later and we were standing at a police call
box where my dance partner called in an "Officer Needs Help" call which
insured that we were surrounded by cars, sirens, flashing lights and
boys in blue with guns drawn in about 18 seconds. A lieutenant stepped
up and addressed my capturer brusquely.  "What are we doing here?" he
said impatiently.

"Take him in." said my friend.  "Ah, come on..." said the Luey.  "Take
this long-haired son of a bitch in!" he says as he pushed me into the
arms of two young officers who were standing by.  Then I did a really
clever thing.  "Okay, okay!" I said, as the cuffs were being cinched,
"Just don't tow the car!"  To which my pal said "And tow that f***ing
car out of here!"

I rode to the lock-up with the two young cops to whom I was tossed and
who completely agreed with me that my arresting officer was an asshole
and that, as he never identified himself as a police officer, he had no
right to do what he did.  "What should I do?" I asked my drivers,
"Sue?"  "Don't do nothing," the driver said.  "No witnesses.  He's a
veteran cop.  You have long hair.  His word against yours, you lose.
Just shut up and they'll let you out by morning."

I wasn't permitted a phone call, as I wasn't arrested, and I was held
overnight "for my own protection."  I, too, had my own cell until
around 3:00 a.m. when I was joined by two young Italian gentlemen -
actually, one was in my cell and the other was in the neighboring cell
- who spoke to each other heatedly through the bars.  Eventually, my
cell mate turned to me and, I swear this is true, said "What are you in
for?"  "Parking." I said in a low voice.  "What?" he said.  "Parking."
I mumbled again.  He stared at me. "Parking?" he says slowly, as if
trying it out for the first time.  "PARKING?!?"  "Holy f*ck, Tony,
we're screwed!" he yells, "This bastard's in for parking!"

Not only didn't I get condoms upon my release, the bastard who brung me
in took my smokes, too.

M "Mad Dog" Hudson