Sunday Scaries Vol. 1
After having bar-hopped twice because the vibes were not up to your standards, you and your friend finally begin to have the fun-filled Friday night you deserve. There is not a single song played by the DJ that you don’t know, making the environment that much better because all you want to do is rock out on the dance floor with your girls. You decide to get another round of drinks and then head to the bathroom for a quick pit stop. As you are headed to the bathroom line, a girl whom you are not very fond of decides to interject and strike up some pointless conversation. As you begin to slip away towards the bathroom line, escaping the mind-numbing conversation, you suddenly feel a hand snatch you by the wrist from behind. Instinctually, you immediately turn around and who do you see but none other than a SLED officer. She escorts both you and your friend out of the bar and immediately begins to question you. And so the interrogation began: What are you drinking?, Where's your ID?, and Why do you have the 21+ wristband on? My responses included that I was drinking a vodka lemonade and that I am 21. That's the reason I was given the wristband upon entry.
“And so the interrogation began: What are you drinking?, Where’s your ID?”
This officer was clearly on a mission to arrest people since she proceeded to claim that she would go through all of the cards on my phone wallet and if she saw that I was in fact lying about my age the consequences would be much worse. Knowing that she would definitely find both my fake ID and real ID, I handed over the fake ID and she escorted me over to the back of her car to write me up for two offenses: minor in possession of alcohol and possession of false identification. People began fleeing the bar as they realized SLED was on the scene, most of them clearly intoxicated. Seeing this frustrated me because I was simply just trying to use the restroom and they chose me to be their next victim. I respectfully asked the officer why they were not grabbing more college kids, since there were about ten officers on the scene and clearly large groups of drunk teenagers. She did not even have a valid response for what I had asked. She instead replied to me that they had already made their quotas based on the amount of people they busted in Five Points and this was their final stop for the night.
“People began fleeing the bar as they realized SLED was on the scene, most of them clearly intoxicated. ”
Amidst the explanation of the next steps of the arrest, a group of about six visibly drunk guys begin jumping on one another and wrestling. I pointed to them and asked why someone like me was chosen out of the crowd versus the people that were visibly drunk like them. The officer replied with a snarky comment that those boys will be our future husbands one day. At this point I am livid, but do not want to get myself into any more trouble, so instead I cross my arms and listen to the multitude of things I would need to complete in order to keep this offense off of my permanent record. They explained that there were two routes that could be taken as a result of the arrest. The first being you appear in court and plead either innocent or guilty based on the terms of your arrest. For me, this was not an option because there was evidence that could be used against me to prove me guilty. The other option was enrolling in an eight hour long alcohol education program online. This option sounded appealing until I heard the insanely large sum of money I was going to have to spend in order to do so. To simply enroll in the course it was $100 and it was an additional $250 for the course. Once the course was completed and I presented my certificate of completion I would be given the opportunity to pay the expungement fees and additional $290, officially wiping this from my permanent record. I could not wrap my head around the almost $700 I would have to spend to keep my permanent record clean.
“ The officer replied with a snarky comment that those boys will be our future husbands one day. ”
The aftermath of this tragic event was far worse than when it actually occurred. I could not help but relive the moments leading up to the officer grabbing my wrist over and over again. I thought about all of the what-ifs, which ultimately drove my mind crazy. What if I had just decided to go home after the first two bars? What if that girl had never stopped me on my way to the bathroom? What if I had stayed out on the dance floor? After having experienced this, all I am left with is a major dent in my bank account, feelings of regret and shame, and worst of all no fake ID.