GUN!!!
My friend in Chicago, Geoff, had a rough time last night. He and the wife were kicking back in their apartment trying to keep cool and no doubt catching up on their first season of Scrubs DVD. The purpose of that last sentence was to establish the fact that they are typical, mild mannered, white people. If you were lost in a dark alley and came across this guy, you'd probably be prompted to ask if HE needed help.
As the night went on, they heard a disturbance in the apartment downstairs. There were some raised voices, sounds of furniture and other items being disturbed, and eventually some crashing sounds. All of which was behavior atypical of these neighbors.
Geoff put a call down to his neighbors to ask if everything was alright, but the phone was answered by someone who was definitely not one of the effiminately voiced gentlemen who lived downstairs. This new, gruff and angry voiced demanded who was calling and Geoff explained he was the neighbor. The call didn't end well so the next call was 911.
The situation was explained to the dispatcher, who then asked that everything be repeated. Before the conversation ended there was a loud knock on HIS door and an angry voice demanding to be let in and the term, "I know you're in there!" was shouted through the door.
Geoff grabbed his hunting shot gun which hadn't been used in a couple of years. He had to get it unzipped out of the travel bag and the weapon was unloaded. He figured he could shout back through the door that the police were on the way and follow that up with the unmistakable (sha-SHINK!) of a shot gun to convince this angry door knocker to knock elsewhere.
In the time it took Geoff to hear the first knocks on his door, put down the phone, retrieve the gun from the closet, and unsheathe it - the door knocker eventually declared he was Chicago PD. Geoff had not yet declared he was armed yet, but the yelling voice was demanding that all guns be put down. The shotgun was put back in the closet, he put his hands on his head and the wife opened the door for the door knocker.
A cop flew into the room and started demanding where the gun was. Geoff motioned towards the closet where the cop found the shot gun. The cop then put Geoff on the floor with a knee in his back and started to demand where the drugs and hand guns were.
It was finally established that there were no drugs or hand guns, and that the shot gun was registered, sort of. The registration had actually expired in January. There were about a dozen cops in the courtyard who had raided the neighbors. The neighbors weren't there and cops had confiscated a small amount of drugs from that apartment. Apparently these neighbors were small time drug dealers and the cops had a warrant to search their apartment.
It was decided by the cops that the lapsed registration of Geoff's shot gun was a worthy enough crime to confiscate the gun, put him in handcuffs, parade him outside in front of all the neighbors, and keep him in the city clink till 5 AM this morning. Despite this show of bravado, just about every cop agreed that the late registration charge would be dropped. No other charges were levied.
Geoff is taking this fairly well. He just wants the charge dropped and his gun back. I'd be going for a pound of flesh - wrongful imprisonment, no warrant for search, police brutality, lost time, wages, sleep, and reputation for being paraded out in handcuffs. I'm guessing the cops just figured "What's one guy's reputation? We could be seriously embarrassed if we don't leave this raid without at least one person in handcuffs. Much better we protect the city's reputation."
I'd try damn hard to make them pay for that little piece of PR at my expense. But then again I have a lot of free time on my hands.
As the night went on, they heard a disturbance in the apartment downstairs. There were some raised voices, sounds of furniture and other items being disturbed, and eventually some crashing sounds. All of which was behavior atypical of these neighbors.
Geoff put a call down to his neighbors to ask if everything was alright, but the phone was answered by someone who was definitely not one of the effiminately voiced gentlemen who lived downstairs. This new, gruff and angry voiced demanded who was calling and Geoff explained he was the neighbor. The call didn't end well so the next call was 911.
The situation was explained to the dispatcher, who then asked that everything be repeated. Before the conversation ended there was a loud knock on HIS door and an angry voice demanding to be let in and the term, "I know you're in there!" was shouted through the door.
Geoff grabbed his hunting shot gun which hadn't been used in a couple of years. He had to get it unzipped out of the travel bag and the weapon was unloaded. He figured he could shout back through the door that the police were on the way and follow that up with the unmistakable (sha-SHINK!) of a shot gun to convince this angry door knocker to knock elsewhere.
In the time it took Geoff to hear the first knocks on his door, put down the phone, retrieve the gun from the closet, and unsheathe it - the door knocker eventually declared he was Chicago PD. Geoff had not yet declared he was armed yet, but the yelling voice was demanding that all guns be put down. The shotgun was put back in the closet, he put his hands on his head and the wife opened the door for the door knocker.
A cop flew into the room and started demanding where the gun was. Geoff motioned towards the closet where the cop found the shot gun. The cop then put Geoff on the floor with a knee in his back and started to demand where the drugs and hand guns were.
It was finally established that there were no drugs or hand guns, and that the shot gun was registered, sort of. The registration had actually expired in January. There were about a dozen cops in the courtyard who had raided the neighbors. The neighbors weren't there and cops had confiscated a small amount of drugs from that apartment. Apparently these neighbors were small time drug dealers and the cops had a warrant to search their apartment.
It was decided by the cops that the lapsed registration of Geoff's shot gun was a worthy enough crime to confiscate the gun, put him in handcuffs, parade him outside in front of all the neighbors, and keep him in the city clink till 5 AM this morning. Despite this show of bravado, just about every cop agreed that the late registration charge would be dropped. No other charges were levied.
Geoff is taking this fairly well. He just wants the charge dropped and his gun back. I'd be going for a pound of flesh - wrongful imprisonment, no warrant for search, police brutality, lost time, wages, sleep, and reputation for being paraded out in handcuffs. I'm guessing the cops just figured "What's one guy's reputation? We could be seriously embarrassed if we don't leave this raid without at least one person in handcuffs. Much better we protect the city's reputation."
I'd try damn hard to make them pay for that little piece of PR at my expense. But then again I have a lot of free time on my hands.
posted by Bill Gilles | 12:33 PM
5 Comments:
For the record, I didn't actually get the 'knee in the back' treatment. Once I put my hands behind my head willingly I got shoved around a little bit and then the guy cuffed me. So you can probably ignore the police brutality part of the potential charges. But it was a surreal experience.
And I can tell you this much, Mr. Gilles, I am certain that I am the only person you know (who doesn't play in the NBA) who has been racially profiled (an incident from 3 years ago) and arrested on gun charges. And I do take a perverse amount of pride in that.
And also, I was watching "The Family Guy". So nice to see that's its been moved to 10:00. That gives me 30 minutes of extra sleep each night!
Beware of the cat in the gun-owner's home!
As "the wife" I feel compelled to tell the as yet untold story of Eddy the Scaredy Cat. Eddy is our all black cat who is frightened of EVERYTHING. After dragging Geoff out in handcuffs, the cops headed back up to our place to get his shoes (how thoughtful!) and identification. They asked if we had a dog and I said that we did not but we did have a cat. "Watch out for the cat!" they shouted to each other. Yeah! Watch out for the black cat who has been camping out in terror under our bed since we first heard footsteps in the stairwell! The cat was still nervous about coming out from under the bed this afternoon when my friend and I victoriously returned from the Cubs game.
I will now attempt to catch up on sleep. The barely two hours of sleep I had last night between cops, cop calls, and picking Geoff up from the clink at 5 a.m. just did not do me well today.
So the cop answered the phone, thinking that it was a customer? And they found out who it was through caller ID? Or through the 911 call? I bet there is some sort of civilian review board.
What kind of drugs to the neighbors sell? Hormones? Hair care products?
I believe that they sell small-time stuff: extasy, pot, etc. But they might have had a bigger business than I imagined. Or so the cops led me to believe with some of their comments.
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