Jail Birds

Another Canadian story for your site. I grew up in Windsor, ON and it is sort of the Vegas of Canada. The bars on Ouelette get a lot of yank students from colleges in the States coming over to Windsor, Canada for the lower drinking age, the lenient pot laws and the casino. I was with a group of mates downtown and hitting a few of the clubs after our local. We were chatting up some of these fine yank birds wasted on our stronger beer and a few of the lads with them took offense. We brushed them off with a few laughs and jeers, I was with a group and these boys were not messing with us.

The night ended well after 2am and we all spill out to the main street and my mates are going one way, I am going the other so we part. I walk up to get some shwarma, nothing like hot greasy meat in a pita after a night of countless pints and whiskey. I guess the yanks at the bar followed me in and were looking to brawl; I chuckled them off and kept getting my order. A few words were exchanged and the yanks were getting steamed. I knew I was going to get stomped by the lot of them. Call it Jameson courage, but when it came I just took them on my own. Stood for most of it too and got in a great bunch of shots. Windsor has such a problem with this kind of thing they just roll the paddy wagons up the main street with all the bars to collect the drunks and trouble makers. Naturally, the yanks and I found ourselves in one of them. I did not go quietly. I was fighting a few yanks and when the plods grabbed me I just kept kicking and punching figuring it was more yanks. So we get thrown in together in cuffs, and are causing a ruckus in the back of the wagon enough that when we reach the lock up there are tons of cops waiting to remove us. The yanks at this point are really scared. I am still going off like a bastard calling the lot of them cunts and kicking at them.

4 plods take me away. Throw us in the cells. I am still yelling at the yanks. I hear one of them crying in the cells and just mock him from my own. The girl cop in charge comes in with a few brutes and takes my blanket away to show me I am getting the 'treatment' and tells me to shut the fuck up. I finally pass out. Wake up the next morning. It takes some time to remember where the fuck I am, then it hits me like a sledge. Fuck me. I mean when you wake up in jail, you know it right away. It was actually trying to piece together why. Then the part about fighting the cops comes back to me and the cringe when you remember the ugly parts of the drunk. I am in a pretty rough state. The hangover is part of it; the cops had been pretty liberal in throwing some shots when I was cuffed, so my face was a bit mashed. The 'breakfast' comes and I am still belligerent right back to the bird in the uniform, same bloody one that was telling me to shut the fuck up. There was no love lost on us. So finally, they trot me out to the Sgt. I am polite to him, back to normal you know? And he is a bit shocked. I must have lit into him the night before too. He gives me the one over and says, "can't believe you are the same guy we brought in last night". Then starts giving the deal about I am lucky I am not up on charges for assaulting the officers that brought me in. That is a proper laugh. My face looks like I was in a car wreck, neck is aching where a knee had been in it, and the cuff marks on my wrists look like red bracelets. He says they have it all on video. I reply, "I am sure, sarge, if you got me on that, I will be going up on it and there would be charges, then".

They hand me a $107 fine for drunk in a public place, give me my stuff back and then let me out the side door. I step out, Saturday morning all bright and sunny 8am or so. Then I see who they let out with me, the yanks from the night before. These are white, upper or middleclass college kids. They are in a foreign land getting out of jail and all of a sudden the madman they heard howling at them in the jail cells is right beside them...again, this time free. They are a bit shaken by this. I could see it. 3 of them went down on the same charge as me and these kids were pretty docile through the whole procedure. I eye them over, measuring if I should be concerned, I think the coppers were having a laugh at that, sending me out with the same lot I was fighting the night before hoping I took a few shots more I am sure. So I light a cig and get ready to walk home. The yanks are well lost. All their mates took back off the night before and these guys are just baffled by it all. I took a bit of pity and offered them all a cigarette. They accepted and we had a bit of a laugh over the night before. They kept saying they had never seen anyone resist and take on the cops that way, nor talk to cops the way I was the night before. I honestly to this day have little memory of it at all. I walked them down to the tunnel bus back to Detroit. Shook their hands and sent them on their way. I even waved as the bus left. I would never recognize one of them if I ever saw them again.

I think your site is very cool WP. It is funny to read about others misfortunes with the same stuff. I have done some of the most stupidest stuff in my life loaded, but I have also had some of the most fun and exciting times as well.

Signed Jason

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