The Cops Will Kill Me

by plermpt

The cops already want to kill me. All they’re missing is a reason. And because they have the law on their side that reason can be as simple as “duhhh…he looked suspicious.”

This is very unfortunate for someone like me, who is suspicious by design: My shoulders are always slumped and I never make eye contact. I avoid people I recognize on the street, keep my hood drawn when possible, and very rarely smile. Because I am a white boy most normal people regard my creepiness in the range from severely depressed, antisocial shut-in all the way to baby raper. (I’m a lewd leper.) I am being realistic. Race is always a factor when sizing up someone’s suspiciousness, whether calculated or not. Though cops are not people, they still judge by race, and a dim witted, trigger happy pig is on patrol for one thing: a reason.

Last night I was walking through my neighborhood park with some friends. I challenged them to a pull up contest, and was in the midst of winning when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a patrol car creeping up on us. Immediately I turned to my friends and said in an urgent tone, “Let us leave the park now.” Before I finished my sentence I was power walking to the nearest exit. When I turned around my friends had effectively abandoned me, walking in the opposite direction.

I continued walking and soon the cops rolled up next to me. They yelled from their patrol car for me to stop, and when I did they leapt out, licking their chops. They put their hands all over my body, starting at my junk and working down my thighs. They were disappointed by my jeans, so they unzipped my coat and reached into my inside breast pocket to pull my wallet out. The line was finally crossed, so I stopped them to say that I would take it out for them.

“Duhhhhh…Do you have anything you shouldn’t?”

“No. Are you giving me a ticket?”

“Duhhhh..We won’t, but we could…mmmm, duuhhh…The park is closed. It’s illegal to be in the park at night…duhhhh.”

“That’s why I’m leaving the park officer.”

It took ten minutes for the pig to jot down my address because he can’t read, all the while he reiterated that stupid sentence by rote; his point being that only through his exceeding kindness was I able to avoid a ticket, which, as an officer of the law, he gives by his own discretion.

As I stood there terrified and emasculated, he justified his stop-and-frisk with another idiotic mantra: “You never know.” If I were a cop I wouldn’t stop and frisk anybody exactly because “you never know”; I don’t want to find out. To support his claim he spoke conjecture of an elderly woman sitting on her stoop, who pulled a rifle from underneath her dress when some pigs came strolling by. I failed to see what this had to do with me, as any human recognizes an individual with tight jeans and a weak frame as a mere pussy. But a pig must take every precaution when illegally stopping and frisking civilians because “you never know”; I could have a shotgun tucked between my ass cheeks.

Life lessons learned from this encounter:

  • Don’t go in the park under any circumstances
  • My friends are selfish and unreliable
  • The cops will kill me and get away with it
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