Garda brutality sort of
Thursday, May 15th, 2008
I posted this last week and here is the background to the story. I used to do comic diaries like this, just meandering waffles and doodles that would take a lot of explaining. But this is a good one.
In the year of our lord 2000AD, my life was a mess. I was drinking way too much and generally just wasting my life with a vengeance, weekdays for were drinking and skanks and the weekends for bad hash and flarn.
One Monday I went up to Quinner’s where me,him and DC smoked our brains out. Quinn had just gotten 3 massive reptile tanks made, two of which where under his bed, raising it to the height of bunk beds. They were uninhabited. So we took turns sitting in the air tight tanks where we had to smoke a full joint to yourself and sing a song into a mic which was broadcast by speaker to the two sitting on the bed. Childish but funny times. I sung ‘ Should have known better’ by Jim Diamond. I love that crappy song.
I left around 1 and begun the 40 minute walk home. I was walking through Watergate park when I saw what looked like a bended tree going all wobbly, as I got closer I saw that it was alive and coming towards me, it revealed itself to be a Heron with it’s big bendy neck. I laughed out loud. Way up ahead I could see two bus inspectors coming towards me. I continued along staring at the ground and the Inspectors stopped me. They were Garda.
I had been stopped and searched once before but that was with other kids and it was during the day. I was alone in the dark with these two. I was wearing a bomber jacket thing and a hat which is meant to deter troublemakers from approaching but the other side of that coin is that you look like a troublemaker. They asked me a series of where what and whys? ‘What are you doing out this late’, ‘Do you have anything in your pockets that you shouldn’t have?’. I agreed to the search but then remembered the half smoked spliff in my pocket.
Thankfully I hate littering so my pockets were FULL of crap, dozens of bus tickets, an empty can of 7up, a video tape, an audio tape and two dead mice. I told them that I had two dead mice in my pocket and one of them looked ready to hit me. I produced them and explained that I was meant to give them to Quinner to feed to a snake. One snarled the other one laughed. I palmed the joint and they never saw it. I spoke as eloquently as possible to show that I was in fact a decent member of society. They handed me back all my stuff but the angry one had popped the lenses out of my glasses.
They let me go and told me that they don’t want to see me around the park ever again. I walked off and blazed up to calm my nerves, thinking what nazis they were, all I was doing was walking home. Why were they skulking around without their hi-viz jackets, why were they hassling me?
Then I realised why they were patrolling that area. *Somebody* committed an awful act of street art vandalism a few weeks before around there. And I still think it would have been the universe’s just revenge if they found the joint. But off I went, free as a heron.
Fuck the police.
