And now a view from the other side of the universe.

6/28/2010
I had a new experience. One I hope *never* to repeat. Not ever.
It started Monday afternoon, with my introduction to a mode of transport where you sit on your hands literally, in a waterproof, stain proof safety enclosure ripe with the smells of disinfectant (if you are lucky) and that you cannot extricate yourself from. From there, to a green room resembling a shower that is waterproofed and has a water drain in the center. That door sounds like a heavy car door or freezer; clanging shut with a ringing finality.

At one point, a brief interlude... an interview. Then, applying my other boot to my mouth, just to make sure that both are equally ensconced as close to the tonsils as my own erring ways can place them; I continue to dig myself deeper.

Then a pause;... and the door opens again. The younger sister of a woman I dated a year ago; and she and her family had made it clear that I was no longer welcome... *embarrassment*. Because she is a police officer, because of the situation I find myself, and because that I have no idea what to say to her except the truth... (which really amounts to "I want to get out of here, but cannot possibly imagine a way, unless someone shows me") and yet...
No succor here; but encouragement. It's cheaper and easier... and there is still really nothing that anyone can do. The watch commander, the policies in place, and the rule of law win the day. I sadly, do not.

I have a slight health condition, it's not immediately life-threatening; but in our most modern age, all precautions must indeed be taken... and the facility I am at does not possess the necessary medical personnel in the slight chance that I might, in fact suffer an event while in their care is an unacceptable risk. So then, off to the "bigger boy's" locale; at the lovely Van Nuys hotel of slightly older vintage, more disinfectant, and much scarier proposition...

I'm placed in a holding, where a pile of used food wrappers, milk/juice cartons already consumed, half eaten sandwiches and burritos are arrayed in a loose pile, and several (scary to me) but similarly unfortunate individuals are also ensconced. One is on the phone constantly (of which there are three), pleading with his girlfriend (theorized) to not believe that the text messages meant that he was corresponding with some other woman but that his friend was the culprit; he guilty of being a "parolee in the presence of another parolee" when collected... they were celebrating by drinking beer after planting some rosebushes at his mother's/grandmother's (?) home; and I can only think --- from my uncorrupted and untainted world view :: WTF?
His friend, with enough gang style tattoos (yes, I have watched TV) to insure instant respect in any high security facility; is trying to negotiate the transfer of $30.00 from one person to his girlfriend/family so that they can buy food... and that said person can keep half, as long as at least some (unknown) amount does reach his charges.

There are three phones, two working.

I call three friends whose numbers I've still got and recite back to each the phone numbers of the others, and hope to the luck of answering machines for succor from my distress.

Then sitting there in a complete and utter funk; I watch as some more individuals enter and immediately demand food from the authority figures that have routed them; and behold... sandwiches and apples similar to the waste on the floor is brought forthwith. The lines with authoritarian clerks wearing the sigils of their trade are at work, dispensing unknown magics and directions to the waiting crowd outside.

This crowd outside the clerk's area..., some of whom are members of the same select group and the others their charges; being primarily distinguished by the presence or absence of physical manifestation of the tools of their trade; and interestingly enough the "presence" that they carry while standing outside the location I find myself imposed within.

I sit. I watch, and I despair.

Some are called out and go elsewhere, I know not. Some new are added, and one "Roy" [or Leo?] introduces himself to all and sundry one by one... stating that you "need a brother to watch your back"... and trying to ingratiate himself with some other perhaps more powerful (?) individual or group... He asks me who I am (not where I'm from ... for which I'm strangely relieved) and then starts his pitch all over; as if I could somehow help him... and yet; in mid-sell, he topples slowly to the floor... eyes glazing and voice silent.

A moment of confusion goes by... and I start to look to the group outside... but one of the more scruffy inhabitants (who I had already judged and discounted); makes a gesture toward the group extant, and then points significantly at the floor at my feet.

Authority enters in masse; we are herded watchfully into another smaller place of staying; and a brief discussion of what the white boy is in for... because either they wish to explain the future or further tempt my direction at rabid fear and depression... and we wait.

The gentleman (and I use the term loosely here), who had already admitted to being diabetic and having been acquired during the course of his pastime as it were; wanted to know about food ... and we wait.

The door clangs open, we are herded back out and into our original location, now steaming wetly of disinfectant and other smells best not dwelled upon; and sandwiches are thrust upon the diabetic complainer; and we sit. "Leo" is not there.

And another group of petitioners and their Shepards enter; this time including some fairly attractive and young members of the female of the species. They also are dispensed instructions inscrutable and quiet; and move on.

Others are called; I sit. More enter, one that converses entirely in Spanish, and his cohort, who is busy talking to two others in English at the same moment... and I can catch only one word in 3 or 10, it's fast and I am very lost... and I wait.

I almost doze, I've reached that breathing point where the world slows and you can hear your own heart and there is space in the beats, and my name is called. At Last I think, and then find I am being interviewed by a technician to determine what medicine I need to secure my continued existence, and my blood pressure is taken. 151 / 110 75 or thereabouts, I knew it was higher, because I am stressed and because I have not had my medicine... but really?

A doctor then queries me and prescribes from his list; and I take two pills. They are not what I usually take, but hopefully... and back to the location of waiting, I sit.

One person, scratching madly, triggers memories of critters-past; and I start to imagine that I have acquired a host of the biting, crawling, infesting variety last experience with the cat's flea outbreak. I am *fairly* certain that it exists only in my mind; but is I sure....?

Time passes. I sit. Only the unimportant changes. Awaiting transfer to the next location.

The guy with the girlfriend and the rosebushes is back...

And I'm called. To an interview room it seems. "Do you know AAA_BBB"? I am asked.

Why yes, I concur; and am escorted to a room with phone handsets against glass; and handprints and smudges sprinkled liberally thereon. An officer leaves me there, and enters again on the other side of the glass, in a room that will dispense a meeting perhaps? And a woman, matronly but not too old, "somebody's Mom" it seems; and she tells me that she is a person of the requisite authority to negotiate on my behalf; and been started on this conversation by my friend, who for various reasons is not allowed further within (he's not just a citizen, you see).

For a pittance, a price... I can in fact be set free.

The paperwork is extensive, and includes all my assets, my relatives and much more. But I understand the caution, even as I long for the door. You see my options are quite limited, but I had a decision to make; whether to wait for THREE days to before authority state my case...
Or almost immediately out, for the small fee already mentioned; as long as I keep to my promise of intention. To appear and be queried, perhaps for more unpleasantness; I can be set out with this fee...
On my OWN recognizance.

I pay. I don't have it; but I pay anyway.
I still cannot go home; but at least...

I'm AWAY!