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Next to me on my left came an older middle class guy. And it must be nine ten o'clock by now with about thirty guys in the holding tank. And next me on my right was a guy who said he beat up his husband who pressed charges. Said his parents were mid-thirties Rolls Royce rich. I rode in a Rolls once and was not impressed.
Then a drunk came in who had a system and a technique for clearing a space on the floor for him to sleep. Get out my way he tells everyone - I got scabies ! Drunks singing at the top of their lungs. Not a pleasant sound. And a lot of sob stories. Finally we were taken into the next room for processing, finger printing and an interview and then we, about a dozen of us were marched off to a separate holding cell where one had a bit of privacy and everyone used the toilet - as not in front of a room full of miscreant men. But with nothing but concrete seating along the wall in which one could stretch out to sleep. I was being punished for a crime I didn't commit ! I been framed I told everybody.
While Sonoma she told me when I got home, had spent a good deal of the night at the jail waiting for me although she denied it later, but since the pre-denial is the better version, I will go with it. The undercover cop in the drunk tank, the one African kept saying was an undercover cop, was an undercover cop and his wife was in the waiting room as well and Sonoma had a long talk with her about the dangers of his profession, if he was found out. Apparently he had infiltrated a dangerous gang.
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