This weekend I was arrested fined and held in jail over night… and for what? The answer is not really clear but here are the details…according to me, Daniel Haney –
The city of Santa Barbara is a college town and every year around the first of August they have a street party aptly named fiesta. I had never been and a few friends were going so I figured why not, I like to party!
Once we were all out on the streets the hunt for food, a solid drinking base, began. A simple pizza place fit the bill so we sat down and began to eat. While I was waiting on my order I started up a conversation with one of the locations bouncers. They were everywhere and so were the cops. I guess college kids get out of line when drinking, who new?! This dude seemed on the level and pretty friendly to boot. He did however warn me about the fact that most of the places in town like to hire wanna be mma fighter to handle their security. I noted that and moved on. I am a happy drunk most of the time and really was in no danger of reaching my limit that evening so I filed the advice away in my scrap heap of a mind. Hindsight say I should have thought better of the chance meeting.
A few hours later our crew was at a really great dance club on state street, the main drag. I would give the name but I fear even bad press can be good and I care not to send anyone to this location or even Santa Barbara for that matter. The dj was awesome and if you know me then you now my affinity for music and shaking my ass and this place was really moving. No problems so far. I had a tab open and one drink on it. That was it. My brother had bought an additional for me and I had just about finished that one when I went looking for the bathroom. As I started to walk in one of the no neck bouncers steered me away letting me know the door I was headed for was the women’s room. A fine place I am sure but he made it clear that it wasn’t for me, fine. He then pointed out the desired location for male relief so I started that way only to be stopped by another meat head who took one look said I would have to take the long way around because for some reason the shortest distance just wasn’t right for me. Not sure his thinking in the matter but I didn’t question it. I Just walked away and stood by the rear door facing the back bar. By this time I didn’t even have a drink and all that was in my hands was my camera, take note.
My new perch seemed reasonable to me, however these guys felt differently. I could tell from the beginning these guys didn’t like me. They are probably used to frightened little college kids who wet their pants upon any interaction. Instead I was put off and maybe even a little smug so I am sure that didn’t set well with the, my cock and balls are shrunk do to steroid use so now I have an even bigger chip on my shoulder crowd, and it showed. They then approached me letting my know that my current standing spot was not appropriate either……so I moved a few feet to what was apparently an equally undesirable location for them. By this point I had figured out that it wasn’t where I was standing but the fact that I was standing period. That was about the time that one gorilla got in my face and told me I had to leave. I then stood my ground, there with his face in mine and let him know that I was bored of the place anyway and that I would be happy to leave and be rid of his company as soon as I closed the time I had open. Again this reaction did nothing to boost his ego so he elevated his tone…which elicited the exact same response from me. I am sure everyone is familiar with roid rage and that is what welled up in his little pea brain. A testosterone surge fueled by his inability to intimidate me caused him to enlist the assistance of his equally small-balled counterparts who upon his nod had come from behind me to try and choke me out. Even this did not get a reaction out of me….other than a smile. The poor bastard couldn’t even do his, most likely, well practiced moves well. So the rest joined in to fling me out the door I was standing next to. In my mind I would simply report this obviously uncalled for and illegal behavior. That was my mistake.
There would be no reporting. In fact there wasn’t even a pause between the bouncers abusing me and the police, who just happened to be waiting in droves at the exit, abusing me. The cops however, were actually professionals and had me on the ground before I even knew who was attacking me. So I must admit that in the beginning I did in fact resist a bit. Not that it did me any good. I think someone said there were nearly a dozen of them. Meanwhile I am trying to keep these idiots form breaking the camera in my hand…didn’t work out though. Once I was restrained with four cops on my back and pretty sure it wasn’t just some thugs in the alley trying to kill me I started smiling and laughing. That too might not have been the smartest thing to do either but it sure was fun. Cause fuck letting those fascists get the best of me.
In a few moments I was handcuffed and buckled into the back seat while they filled out there reports and ticketed me for fighting and resisting arrest…not being drunk in public or anything like that. At that point I unbuckled myself, sprawled out across the back seat and began singing the names of the arresting officers so that I would remember them once I had free hands and a means of documentation. Thompson, Hunt, and Tomello was I that translated later, I hope that will be enough.
Then I was off for a night of being shuffled around an intimidated though to no avail. I simply meet all of there attempts with sharp wit and sarcastic jokes about their sexuality, even threw out a couple of winks and blew a kiss to the dude taking my mug shot. What did I care this whole thing was bullshit anyway. might as well have fun since they had removed me form the party.
After a sleepless night with no seats in a freezing cold holding cell I discovered I wasn’t the only person who got the “feed them to the lions” treatment and at the very same bar. Seems like a racket to me. Then once I was finally released the following morning my brother and I stopped in to a store to by some water while we were still talking about the absurdity of the preceding events. The clerk over heard us and asked if I was the dude who got attacked by “twelve cops”. I replied with a maybe only because I couldn’t actually attest to the number considering they all came form behind. I bellowed out a hearty laugh and let me know that was the talk of the town and that he actually had video of it. How random is that?! I was elated. That would be great evidence in my case not only against the bouncers, who I already had witnesses for, but for the cops as well. I was actually amused.
I hadn’t slept all night so a nap was in order. Then around noon I got up and my brother shuffled me down to the station to press charges and file complaints against the sheriffs. The station was conveniently closed. Nothing more I could do now except get back into party mode. I’ll be damned if the man keeps me down.
That night on the streets I took pictures and video of the police. Some of which obviously recognized me do to the fact that they intentionally covered their name badges as I filmed them. I still haven’t received the video form the clerk nor have I gotten through to the court house but rest assured “This aggression will not stand man, this aggression will not stand!!”
