Cops and Dicks

My boyfriend goes to Rutgers University in New Jersey. Naturally, I go visit him once in a while. He comes into the city 90% of the time, because, well, it’s the city. And I don’t live in a dorm. However, I do genuinely enjoy going out there. I feel like it’s the closest I’ll get to having a “real college experience.” First thing I realized was how friendly everyone was. Like I mentioned in my previous post, FIT isn’t the friendliest place. And the campuses are GINORMOUS. God knows there’s enough room for them in Joisey.

Another thing I love about the campus is the cafeteria. It is also huge. The buffet is amazing compared to the shitty little food court that FIT calls a cafeteria. I love that I don’t have to feel self-conscious walking around looking like a hobo (sweats and hoodie). At FIT, girls go to class in 9-inch heels looking like they’re walking down the fucking runway. Why? I don’t know. They like looking good. Sometimes feel like I have to force myself to get dressed up just to go to class.

As much as I like to hate on FIT, I like living in the city. I could never survive out there. I love my 24/7 existence. I could never give it up. Plus, college towns have their big drawbacks. Getting into bars without a proper fake ID? Forget it. There are dicky campus cops who’re just out to catch people drinking and doing other illicit activities.

Speaking of cops, I had my first “real” encounter with them a few weeks ago. We were all drinking in my boyfriend’s dorm room, drinking beers and tequila shots. I passed out early. I was woken up at around 4 in the morning by the bright light and two cops standing in the doorway. What a rude fucking awakening. I looked around the room, and my boyfriend was nowhere around. His roommate was also waking up in his bed, looking as confused as I was. What’s going on? Where’s my boyfriend? I asked, rubbing my eyes. Your boyfriend’s at the hospital, one of them said. I instantly snapped awake. What?! Is he okay? They didn’t answer. They asked us questions about how old we were and how much we’ve had to drink (the room was trashed with beer and liquor bottles). When they realized we were underage, they lectured us on how we’re not supposed to do drink, blah blah fucking blah. No shit, Sherlock. We showed them our IDs, and they took our information. I just wanted to know if my boyfriend was okay. They left without telling us what had happened to him.

My boyfriend had left his phone and wallet in the room. Until noon the next day, I had no idea what happened to him. I asked around all over the place, trying to find out what the deal was. Nobody seemed to know. I knew it couldn’t have been alcohol poisoning. There wasn’t even enough alcohol in the room to cause alcohol poisoning – I know his tolerance very well. I was just hoping he didn’t get in a fight or seriously hurt himself somehow. He finally called from the hospital phone and told me that he was on his way home and that he’ll explain everything once he got back.

When he told me what happened, I was shocked. He was downstairs having a cigarette, clearly intoxicated, sure, but minding his own business. An ambulance arrived for someone else (probably for alcohol poisoning), and they took him as well. Okay, correction – forced him. They MADE him get into the ambulance even though he didn’t want to and clearly expressed that he didn’t want to. As far as I know, it is not a crime to be intoxicated, especially if you’re of age (he’s 21). He said they treated him like shit, not listening to him just because he was drunk. He caused a ruckus, fighting the EMTs off. At the hospital, he wasn’t even treated for anything. They cuffed him to the bed because he was being “belligerent.” He wouldn’t have been fucking belligerent if they hadn’t forced him to get in the ambulance in the first place. What a fucking joke. I cringe thinking about waking up cuffed to a hospital bed, feeling completely powerless. The next morning, he refused to sign the papers that would ultimately charge him for the ambulance fee. Smart move. Those bastards don’t deserve a cent.

This really made me think. I’ve heard and read (and seen on TV) plenty of cases where intoxicated people were treated like shit just for being drunk. Accounts of police brutality. Accounts of unjust treatment. Just because statements made by someone who was drunk don’t hold up in court. Well, you were drunk at the time. We can’t trust anything you say, even if you’re sober now. You’ve lost your credibility. Is this really what we’ve come to? Come on. What is it with this country and alcohol? Honestly. So fucking retarded.


About Han J.

Located in NYC.

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