CELL BLOCK 5

When most people look back at their 21^st birthday celebration, it’s memorable for one of the following reasons:

1.       You can’t remember it, meaning you obviously partied yourself into a blackout.    

2.       You ended the night wrapped around the toilet promising your first born to whomever made the room stop spinning.

My 21^st however, was memorable because I spent that evening at the Orange County Jail, as an inmate.  Now I’m sure the first thing that comes to your mind, is drunken disorderly conduct or something exciting like that right? Well, no it wasn’t anything that cool.  My situation was total bullshit and I’m still rather salty about it today (9 years later).

My friends and I decided to celebrate my 21^st at Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights in Orlando.  For those of you who don’t know what that is, I suggest you Google it, as its freaking awesome.  For those of you too lazy to Google, I will quickly explain.  Basically, Universal Studios becomes a haunted theme park, complete with psycho’s chasing you with chainsaws, haunted houses, and lots of alcohol. 

Once inside the park, I make a beeline for the first “beverage cart”, and order myself a Long Island Ice Tea.  I proudly present my License which shows that I am 21, and that it was my birthday.   The bartender winks and me, makes my drink extra strong.    I take a sip, and hand it to my friend Marc to taste, who then hands it to my friend Alf to taste.  They agree that Mr. Bartender did a good job.  No sooner that we finish these sentiments a large man comes up to us and asks for ID.  I ask him who he is as he is dressed in regular clothing with nothing signifying any sort of authority at all,  he quickly flashed me his badge, and I handed over my license. 

The officer then announces that we have a problem, even though I am 21 my friends were not, and I was providing them with alcohol.  I just stared at him in disbelief.    He must have thought I didn't hear him from the blank look on my face, so he repeated himself, and led us to the behind the scenes section that served as the security headquarters.  It was back there that I met the most evil bitch of woman cop ever.  What is it with women cops that they feel the need to prove themselves by being meaner and “tougher” than anyone else?  It’s like get over it, you don’t have a cock, god made you a girl.   Maybe that’s why bitter women like that become cops, it’s the only way they’ll really get to fuck somebody… just saying.

Anyway she takes our ID’s makes us sit while she runs them.  She informs us that we will be thrown out of the park, and not able to come back for one year.  I’m so furious at the whole situation.  It was ridiculous, I didn’t buy them booze, they had a sip… now were getting kicked out, banned, and the rest of my friends have no idea where we are or what happened to us.  Now this was back in 2000, we didn’t have cell phones.  I mean yes they were invented, no most of us didn’t have one, as we were poor, in college, and they were so expensive then.  I had no way to get it touch with my other friends, and tell them to leave, so we could go party somewhere else.  For all I knew they were in line for a haunted house and wouldn’t even realize we were gone for a few hours.   My birthday was fucking ruined, and I was devastated.  

It was at this moment, as I was wallowing in self-pity,  that the bitch looks at my license, and following ensued.

Cop- “This doesn’t look real”

Me-“Well it is”

Cop- “ I don’t think so, you don’t look like you can be 21”

Me- “Well I am”

Cop- “If this license comes back as a fake you’re fucked”

Me- “Fuck you and run the goddamn thing then, you already ruined my fucking birthday what more do you want”.

Now my friends it was that last sentence that sealed my fate.  I stood up when I said that, and was immediately put back into the seat and handcuffed.  Apparently the authorities don’t like it when you use profanities at them, while standing up.  Perhaps I looked threatening.  I mean I was all of a hundred pounds, wearing a tiara, and tank top that said “Angels Exist” with wings on the back.  Not to mention the glittery make up and fake lashes I donned for my big birthday.

I sit cuffed to chair hysterically crying.  I really believe the saying “FML” was invented right then and there.

The bitch comes back from running my license and says that there is good news, and bad news.

Good News- My license was real, and it was in fact my birthday.

Bad News- My license was suspended, and it’s a crime to carry a suspended license on your person, which is punishable by a max of one year in jail.  She was placing me under arrest.   Yes you read that correctly.  Believe me I can’t make this shit up. 

I immediately throw the biggest tantrum ever.  I argued that I wasn’t driving, I used my license as identification, and I knew it was suspended because I didn’t have the freaking $300 to pay my speeding ticket.   Obviously she didn’t care.

I continue the waterworks and hysteria as I am being placed in the back of the police car.  I look out the window and see my new boyfriend (now husband) talking to the police.  Thank God someone knew what was happening to me; hopefully I get bailed out quickly.

Obviously I had no clue that for some fucking reason it takes like 4 hours to book you, before a bond is even set!  I was in the holding cell with a pregnant prostitute, and a lot of scary looking girls.  I just sat in the corner and cried.

They made me take of my tiara for the mug shot of course, and while I was out there the men prisoners who were in a separate holding cell began whooting and hollering at me.  Oh my god it was awful.  All I heard as I was escorted by was “psst psst, hey girl, hey girl”.  Really?? What the fuck is wrong with people?  Maybe the handcuffs turned them on... weirdo’s.

As I’m sitting in the holding cell this male corrections officer starts to talk to me.  He says that I don’t look like I could have done anything that bad, and asked for the story.   I tell him my sad story, and he seems amused by me.  He left and went and checked on my bail.  He said it was set at $500, and my friends had not posted it yet, but not to worry that he was sure they would leave me in jail.  He also said that I was beautiful and if he was my boyfriend he wouldn’t have let this situation happen to me.  Now we had completely gone into creep land. I promptly shut my mouth and stared at the wall, contemplating how I was the one behind bars, and the future “Charles Manson” was guarding me.  WTF.

The rest of my jail time went like this:

•   Getting checked for lice, horrible   
•   Being forced to shower, with pregnant prostitute and scary girls.  I don’t even have to words to describe how horrible and traumatic that was.
• Changing into my XXXL jumpsuit, with size 16 flip flops.
•  Being assigned to Cell Block 5
•  Having pregnant prostitute ask me for my bologna sandwich.  (which I gave up immediately)     
• Witnessing a large black woman take a nasty shit in the middle of cell block 5, as that is where the only toilet was.

Basically, it was the worst fucking night of my life.  I got released @ 7am once my posted bond had processed.  I call my boyfriend to pick me up, and wait outside of the jail.   Oh, and the future Charles Manson was there waiting with me.  His shift was over at 6am, but he stayed around to "make sure I was okay."   Seriously FML. 

I saw my boyfriend’s car roll up and broke out into a sprint and never looked back.  Happy Fucking Birthday to Me!