After an hour of playing basketball at Stoner Park I was tired so when the cops snuck up behind me I was in no position to run from anyone. With hands on their guns, the officers waddle up demanding answers to what I was doing. I would have thought the basketball in my hand would suggestion my intentions but sadly no.
“Are you with her?” gestures the officer to the woman on the swings adjacent the court. “No, but she lives in the neighborhood and I know who she is,” I retort. She joins the conversation and, like me, doesn’t have any ID on her persons. Each officer begins taking down our information: full name, age, birthday, address, height, weight, hair color and eye color.
“Have you ever been citied before?” asks the officer. “Yes, parking tickets and other infractions,” I retort. “You ever been arrested?” asks the officer. “Yes, but charges were never filed and I was released; what is this about?” I ask, irked by all of these questions.
“The park closes at 10:30PM,” responds the other officer. “Where is there a sign that says that?” I retort. “Over there on the fence,” says the other officer while gesturing to a fence over his shoulder. “That sign says ‘Owners must clean up dog defecation’” I retort. I can tell this isn’t going well when then walk us over to their squad car and shine light in my eyes.
I’m sober and have nothing on me so there is nothing to worry about but the look on the other officer’s face says he’s itching for an excuse to use force so I keep my hands on my head and stand in the light. Another squad car rounds a corner and slows to a halt, at which point the other holds up four fingers. ‘Four can’t be a good,’ I think. ‘One or five maybe but four is too far in the middle.’
The other squad car drives off but when my officer flashes his spot light, the other squad car returns. Officers confer and discuss matters for a while. Any car heading up or down Stoner Avenue is slowing down and assessing the situation so I stare back at them, partially blinded by the police spotlight with my hands on my head.
After 30 minutes of this I was issued a ticket for loitering and with the swipe of my signature I was release on my own recognizance awaiting arraignment. In the nearly two years I have lived next to Stoner Park, this is probably the least bad thing I’ve done so it’s only fitting that this ticket occurred the last time I’ll ever visit the park.
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