A Getting Busted Story
Posted: Thu Aug 11, 2005 3:17 pm
Once upon a time, there I was. Knee deep (literally, I was standing in the ★■◆●) in a huge pile of marijuana. Smoking an ounce a day. Coughing up about the same. Taking it from the ground and pulling, cutting, binding, big-leafing, field stripping and trimming pounds and pounds of pot and dozens and dozens of plants in the fields. Getting paid a hundred dollars a day and blowing it, and getting all the free pot I could smoke. Then the season ended.
I was homeless at the time enjoying the hippie atmosphere of Willits and Laytonville and hitchhiked to get to places. I had my dreads going on and a 3 month old stench of non-bathing. Mix in a little patchouley.
So I decided to head down to San Francisco and sell it on my way to see my friend Dan. Well, things were a little hot with the cops there so I decided to leave and come back on my way up. Since I didn't sell anything there this time (normally I can clear an ounce a day hustling the ★■◆● on Haight street, I had a massive heroin problem at the time and would bus down to Turk street to see the mexicans at the end of the day), I had no $$. I decided to steal bread from a store called Long's, thinking it was SafeWay (the safe way to steal). But it wasn't, so I got caught with the bread outside the store at a bus stop where I was also smoking a blunt. The cop and store owner walked up and I got caught red handed with the bread (I ate the joint).
I felt okay about that until the cop decided to search me (he said he smelled weed in the area). He thought he was picking up a shoplifter.
Boy, did I make his day.
He searched my person and found nothing. Then he found my jacket. Upturning it, out plopped baggie after baggie of weed (I had it all up for street sale), my steamroller, my scale... altogether about a pound of weed, paraphanealia. Jail.
Marin County Jail wasn't bad at all, a candyland for pussy offenders. I was doing the most time out of anybody in the system. I was only in there for a couple months before they decided to cut my 2X felony 6 month & $1000 fine into a 2 year diversionary probation. It's so easy to tell them "★■◆● you" when they try to cut a deal. It doesn't matter if it's California or Montana, it's the same thing if you don't have you 2-15 (medical marijuana card). I DID cut a deal with them, but it was for me to do a bunch of bull★■◆● service, fines, tests, and classes for the state over the next two years. I might as well have stayed in jail. When I got out and found out all the ★■◆● I had to do I went to the glass in front of the desk in the county jail and pounded on it, demanding that they let me back in. They didn't, they just escorted me from the building.
So I got a job at PetCO for a while in San Rafael, but sooner or later I couldn't take the homesickness for ol' Montana in the plastic horrible bilge of California so I ran as a fugitive back up here.
I write this because I just got and MIP and they ran my name, which didn't come through and I'm very happy.
The End
I was homeless at the time enjoying the hippie atmosphere of Willits and Laytonville and hitchhiked to get to places. I had my dreads going on and a 3 month old stench of non-bathing. Mix in a little patchouley.
So I decided to head down to San Francisco and sell it on my way to see my friend Dan. Well, things were a little hot with the cops there so I decided to leave and come back on my way up. Since I didn't sell anything there this time (normally I can clear an ounce a day hustling the ★■◆● on Haight street, I had a massive heroin problem at the time and would bus down to Turk street to see the mexicans at the end of the day), I had no $$. I decided to steal bread from a store called Long's, thinking it was SafeWay (the safe way to steal). But it wasn't, so I got caught with the bread outside the store at a bus stop where I was also smoking a blunt. The cop and store owner walked up and I got caught red handed with the bread (I ate the joint).
I felt okay about that until the cop decided to search me (he said he smelled weed in the area). He thought he was picking up a shoplifter.
Boy, did I make his day.
He searched my person and found nothing. Then he found my jacket. Upturning it, out plopped baggie after baggie of weed (I had it all up for street sale), my steamroller, my scale... altogether about a pound of weed, paraphanealia. Jail.
Marin County Jail wasn't bad at all, a candyland for pussy offenders. I was doing the most time out of anybody in the system. I was only in there for a couple months before they decided to cut my 2X felony 6 month & $1000 fine into a 2 year diversionary probation. It's so easy to tell them "★■◆● you" when they try to cut a deal. It doesn't matter if it's California or Montana, it's the same thing if you don't have you 2-15 (medical marijuana card). I DID cut a deal with them, but it was for me to do a bunch of bull★■◆● service, fines, tests, and classes for the state over the next two years. I might as well have stayed in jail. When I got out and found out all the ★■◆● I had to do I went to the glass in front of the desk in the county jail and pounded on it, demanding that they let me back in. They didn't, they just escorted me from the building.
So I got a job at PetCO for a while in San Rafael, but sooner or later I couldn't take the homesickness for ol' Montana in the plastic horrible bilge of California so I ran as a fugitive back up here.
I write this because I just got and MIP and they ran my name, which didn't come through and I'm very happy.
The End
