I don't recall what all else was said on the way to the jail. I know I was feeling like I had nothing to lose at this point, so I was being an asshole. We finally arrived at the jail, and we walked in covered with dirt and mud from being at the construction site. It is possible we were throwing tools in to mud puddles, but to be honest I do not remember if that was on a different night or that very night.
I don't remember a lot about being booked, but here is what I do recall. We were never read our rights, which I was hoping would happen because it would be a great loophole to use in court. I remember very clearly getting my mug shot and thinking that I had previously thought about what I would do in this situation. My time arrived, and I just took a normal picture like every other criminal that has been booked. I'm still disappointed that I didn't smile like Tom Delay. Trust me, if you are innocent and being arrested, you would not have a happy-go-lucky smile on your face. Either that man is guilty or he had just finished sodomizing an intern.
While we were getting booked, a girl came in for drunk driving and she looked like shit. She had blood all over her and had been in some sort of car accident. It made me wonder how often people like that show up there, because nobody looked too shocked or concerned about the situation.
We eventually made it in to the area with the drunk tank. There was another room with chairs and a payphone in it, and a desk with a couple of cops around it. On the car ride there, we were told we would be spending the next twelve hours locked up, and I assumed it would be in this room with the chairs or the drunk tank. This was great because that meant I would be missing the first half of my shift at Wally World the next day, but I wasn't going to waste my phone call letting them know I wouldn't be able to help the trailer park trash the next day. I had become one of them, drinking Natural Ice and going to jail. If I had hit my girlfriend before I went, I could have been certified poor white trash. I called my roommate and let him know what was going on. Did you know that if you call from the county jail, it shows up as "County Jail" on the caller ID? At least it does in this town. Next, we were given the county issued jail uniforms. These things are very uncomfortable, and are basically like wearing cardboard. At this point, I'm starting to feel like a real winner.
At this point it was getting to be very late and I was getting tired
and cranky. I returned to the counter where the cops were once I had finished
putting on my new stylish, county issued, jail garments and was stopped
by a cop.
"How was it?"
"How was what?"
"Driving that steam roller?"
"I'm not talking to you, you're a cop."
"Come on man, I won't tell. What was it like?"
"I never got on it."
After that little conversation I turned and started another conversation
with another cop.
"When do I get out?"
"12 hours from when? When I got arrested? When I got booked? When I go in to the cell?"
"12 hours from when I decide." - or something of that nature
"You don't have to be a cock."
At this point, it was a good thing my cousin was there. When I called the guy a cock, he got very pissed off. Coincidentally, there was a middle-aged man right then that walked in. He was wasted beyond all comprehension, and could barely walk. The cop had gotten up and was coming around the counter towards me, and I wasn't sure what his plan was. My cousin said to him, "He was talking to that guy." He was pointing at the drunk who had just walked in. This story almost topped the original claim he made that we were being good citizens and returning the steam roller after some other kids had moved it. Surprisingly enough though, this one actually worked. The cop just said "oh" and went back to what he was doing. I couldn't believe what was going on, it was very surreal.
A few minutes later, the drunk guy walks over to me and says "Hey man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be an asshole or anything." The guy was apologizing to me even though he had done nothing but walk in to the room, that is how wasted he was. He probably had no idea if he had done anything or not. To my surprise, he would be the first of many characters I would be encountering. Unfortunately, my presumption that I would be hanging out with my cousin in a drunk tank all night would be completely wrong. In a few minutes, I'd be getting asked the infamous "What are you in for?" line, and my answer to that would be far less severe then any one of their own.