Prison for Assholes - Part 3

Ok where were we...I had just pulled my head out of my asshole right? (We''ll get back to the arrest in a minute, promise).

So I decided I needed to change drastically, and I did so, quickly. I gave up booze and drugs (almost, I don't count shrooms, and turn a blind eye to the odd spliff). I started yoga and meditation. I started daily exercise. I started eating well. I became vegetarian. I started being nicer to people. I started being happy. I promised myself I would do all these things for myself and those that loved me. Amazing things started to happen. Shitty people started moving out of my life. I met new people, people I needed to meet.

A few months into this I got an email from Couchsurfing. A woman from Accrington wanted to come and stay on my couch because someone had told her Hebden Bridge was a cool place. Her name was Rachael, she was a yoga teacher, vegetarian, meditator and all round priestess/witch/Goddess. She stayed the night in my bed, she stayed in my house for a month. She taught me many things. I still know her, I still love her. Although I'm with a new Goddess now. I digress.

Things were starting to be beautiful, I still had a lot to work on but I was starting to see light at the end of the tunnel. I was reading many spiritual books, mainly yoga and meditation books and related esoteric subjects. I was on a spiritual high. I was unflappable, untouchable. Things that I would usually be mad at made me laugh. So this was my state of mind when I was arrested...

I could see the coppers were angry with me. Even though I was supposedly just a random guy with a dog. I knew they wanted badly to find something and I knew it was there in the car. They brought the sniffer dog in. I watched as the happy little spaniel completely ignored where my stash was and went rooting around for smells of my dogs arse and her biscuits. They looked over and around the whole car. The dog didn't change, no barking, no stopping, no indication. There were furtive looks between the coppers and the plain-clothed asswipe that would later interview me told me "The dog has indicated, we are impounded your car for searches and you're under arrest for the possession of cannabis." He held up the cardboard roach in a ridiculously large ziplock bag. I smirked at him. I couldn't help it, it was funny.

I was handcuffed and put in the back of a van. Now my mind started whirring. What was actually going to happen here? Ok, they will rip my car apart and they will find the weed. I'm on the Isle of Man and I've imported drugs. I'm definitely going to prison. Ok. I accepted it in a moment. Then came further questions; Will my kids be ok? Yes, they have their mum and my parents. Will my parents be ok? My mum will freak but she loves being a martyr, nothing I can do about that. Will my dog be ok? Yeah, my Dad will come get her. What will I do now? I'll go to prison for a while and I will never sell weed again. I will never sell weed again.

This was a revelation, an ecstatic moment of unburdening. I will never sell weed again! No more worrying about the police. No more paranoia of being robbed by my local wannabe gangsters. No more dealing with people I didn't care for. No more late night deals, no more watching my back. Good God, I was so happy. I don't remember being happier in my life. I started laughing, I wept tears of relief. I had no idea I had carried such a burden since the age of 14. At 15 having my first run in with people who didn't like me taking their business, or people just jealous I was making money at all. I'd been hated. I'd been envied. I'd been robbed. I'd been attacked. I'd been maced. I'd been burgled. It was over and I was overwhelmed with joy.

10 minutes later I was at the station. They couldn't understand what I was smiling at. Do you know what's happening? Sure dude. I think at this point they thought I had nothing in the car and I was laughing about that. An hour later I was called out of the cell and they went over what they had found. They tried their very best to make it sound very serious and scary. I thought it was surreal and amusing. I had already accepted my fate. I was grateful. I was thanking the universe for ending this nightmare. I knew I would live after this and be happy. I knew I was here because I was supposed to be here. I knew I had hurt people, especially those that loved me. I had karma to pay. I was already deciding what kind of book I would write and enjoying how much time I could dedicate to yoga and meditating.

Do you know how serious this is!? Do you know you're going to get up to 7 years in prison!? The guy was not much older than me, broad shouldered and well dressed. He had shiny shoes and glossy hair and was determined to make me shit my pants. Yeah man, I get it, no need to shout. I pissed him off because I was calm, happy even. At one point they passed me a brown envelope. If you put some names in there, the judges will take it into consideration when sentencing. Naa mate, I'm good, thanks anyway. I started to enjoy his furrowed brows and obvious frustration at my demeanor. They left me in the cell for a while. They were getting me a lawyer, or advocate as they are known over there.

The advocate was ok, he was a clever guy and had no chip on his shoulder. He talked to me a lot because he found me interesting. He would say things like "We don't get many guys like you." Meaning I was literate and not as shouty as his usual clients. He told me to say nothing in the interview, no comment all the way. And that's what I did, and it was so fucking funny.
You know when you say a word over and over it starts sounding weird? Imagine saying 'no comment' for 3 hours non stop. It sounded ridiculous after about 30 minutes. Mr Shiny Shoes didn't share my amusement, or the way I experimented with saying no comment in different tones and accents. At one point he slammed his hands on the table in an effort to shock me. I raised my eyebrows and made a hmmm sound as if to say he was very impressive.

I was honestly trying hard not to burst out laughing. I felt so weird, I was genuinely happy, this was all so surreal. I felt like I was in a film watching myself. When he hit the table I was imaging an old TV cop show The Bill and the hammy acting. I was sat with my solicitor and it was 2012, he couldn't touch me and we both knew it. How did he think he could scare me? Regardless of this amusing encounter. I spent the weekend in the cells and knew I'd be going to prison for an unknown amount of time on Monday morning.

To be continued...