Two cuffed men were seated on the curb on Bradford St. in front of their Lexus. We were all waiting for a wagon. I was helping guard them for the primary officer. They had broken out the car windows of one of their baby’s mothers. Another woman was pleading their case, “But you don’t know what she did to him!” She was correct. We did not know. Nor did we care.
As we waited, one of the prisoners said hello to a friend walking by and the two started talked casually. When the conversation was over and after good-byes were said, the primary officer asked the prisoner quite sincerely, “Let me ask you something. You’re sitting there in cuffs and you’re talking to that guy like nothing’s up? I don’t get it.” The prisoner responded, “That’s because we’re being arrest for nothing. So nothing’s up."
March 30, 2009
This is a story from way back when. I've never found a way to work it into anything I've written, but it's too good to go to waste:
Labels: ghetto culture