This Isn’t Drinking and Driving; It’s Drinking and Walking posted 7/7/2008 9:12:31 PM | 0 kudos what's this?     report abuse

Pornosaurus

It was my 30th birthday. I was intoxicated in public at the time of my arrest, on the morning after my birthday. I left an undisclosed establishment on North Market Street shortly past 1:37 a.m. There was a black limousine parked outside. I headed eastwardly. It was a coincidence that there were two ladies that walked in front of me, and the limo. caught their attentions. I attempted to cross the street behind the limo., and that is when an off-duty police officer stopped me. He inquired as to my intoxication. I exercised my right to remain silent, because anything I might have said could have and would have been used against me in a court of law. I was grabbed, and my hands were cuffed eventually. At least one other police officer approached the scene. He was on a bicycle if I hadn’t been mistake. My pant’s pockets were pillaged. I asked what the charge was. “Public Drunk.”* While I stood my ground behind the car that was to have taken me to jail, I looked behind me, and observed a parked, police vehicle. I think it was a Ford, Mustang with lights on it’s roof and the black and white markings of the City of Charleston Police Dept. I did so in the event that there might have been video surveillance of this arrest. I witnessed the two ladies enter the limousine on the other side of the street. Other than that party, the police officers, and myself, the street appeared to be relatively emptied at the time. The off-duty officer placed me under arrest. I said, “…Don’t do this…” I was escorted to the back seat of the car that I stood behind previously. After a few moments, I saw the limo. driven away to the west. I and the gentleman whom made the arrest departed the scene. No one read me my rights at the time.
After my arrival at the county detention center, I asked the lady who booked me with what I was charged. I was placed in an unsanitary cell, with nothing but a bench, a drain in the floor, and other detainees. I tried to keep to myself. One of the other men started to talk nonsensically. The others and I ignored him. One of the men in that cell urinated on places other than the drain that included the bench. The stench overwhelmed most of us. Three of the four of us were later taken for the identification process… I digressed. I took a tour of a prison for a business-law class back in high school. I learned of the stress on everyone in such an environment. At the time of my first arrest I learned that such an environment, when over-crowded, was far more stressful… Anyway, I smiled for my mug-shots this second time. When told not to smile, I stated, “I can’t help it.” Before my fingerprints were to have been taken, I was told by the corrections officer, who made the identification officially, to sign a screen. I asked what it was that he wanted me to have signed. Again, he told me to sign it. To this day, I still haven’t learned why a signature was or wasn’t required. I wrote the words, “I don’t know what I’m signing” above, then attempted to have affixed my signature below. The officer attempted to take the pen from me, I told him, “I’m signing it.” The officer seized the pen, grabbed me by the shirts on my chest, and jacked me up against the wall. I said something like, “Sir, you need to regain your composure; you have lost control of yourself.” Then, he grabbed me by the arm. Again I said, “I’m signing it.” I didn’t think I ever got past my middle initial. He threw me out of the identification room, and into a situation of unlawful restraint and excessive use of force.
I was met with the force of what seemed like all available correctional officers at the time. I slapped my hand down on a counter’s top, and said, “Wait, this is wrong!” l was gang-tackled, shackled, and later drug around in an upright position, basically. While I was on my chest, I used the word, “ass,” for which I apologized with promptness. The cuffs were too tight, and I mentioned that fact repeatedly, again, and again. Throughout this altercation, I focused my attentions on the hands that gripped my body tightly, and the shackles. Photographs were later taken of the bruises that I incurred from this situation, and some were posted on the internet. I made every attempt to cooperate, because I didn’t want any further bodily injuries. Nevertheless, I was returned to the unsanitary cell, whence I came. What might have happened was that the detainee who remained in that cell might have rushed the guards, but I wasn’t sure. I was told to get down on the bench. I turned my head around, watched, and listened, as the officer, whom assaulted me initially, declared, “Everyone saw him hit me first, right.” I was escorted to the A1 section of the jail, otherwise known as segregation, if I wasn’t mistaken. Two officers led me to an interrogation, I meant conference room. Before the door was shut, I asked one of the officers was it the case that the charge was still, “public intoxication.” His words were, “We’ll let you know when we figure that out.” Those cuffs were tight.
When the cuffs were removed, they were done so with caution. I was instructed to strip for a visual search. When I was placed in cuffs again, caution was exercised. I was escorted to a room with another detainee. I was offered the opportunity for a shower. The other detainee repeatedly told me, and later others throughout the relative, completion of the identification processes, that he was jumped by two men at a restaurant. There were bruises and stitches to his face. I never inquired as to the profession of the men whom jumped him. Anyway, I was offered two meals in jail that day, and as with my previous experience in jail, I offered both meals to someone else. This might have sounded sensationalized, but a corrections officer said, “The judge doesn’t want to see you. Sign this and you’ll be released in one-to-four hours. I did. After I read what I signed, I realized that I probably committed a misdemeanor count of perjury. “…On July 3, 2008, Donald J. Hulbert personally appeared before the undersigned judge…” [My last name was misspelled on the form.] The truth: I never appeared before a judge that day. I was corrupted by a corrupted system. Furthermore, I believed that I was detained with more than $30 cash. However, I was issued a check in the amount of $25, and one penny was returned to me at the time of my release from jail, on the 3rd of July. The citation, or “UNIFORM TRAFFIC TICKET” was given to me with the rest of my personal possessions, which was the first time I had seen that document.
Due to the aforementioned incidents in jail, I wasn’t able to make a telephone call. So, I walked to my place of employment, only to learn that I had been fired. My termination was most likely the direct result of not having called about my predicament and again, because I was assaulted in jail. I had radiological examinations on both of my wrists after my release, and I thanked goodness that the x-ray results indicated that there were no

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Blogs by Pornosaurus: Porn and Law: Drinking and Blogging Again To Be Continued... Ike my ass! For Fannie and Freddie You'll wouldn't believe me... This is disturbing: Is it just me? An e-mail to the SC Attorney General Maybe this one's for the poor bastard who made front page news here Movements and Rhythms I'm about to get fucked;but first, get your chance. Sorry to beat a dead horse, but this is really happening This Isn’t Drinking and Driving; It’s Drinking and Walking Can anyone think of anything else? Ass-ended Is this police perjury? "Memorial Day" (2006) Wow, I own a business in downtown Charleston Now You See It... I've found my spanking emoticon! "There'll Be No Drinkin' In North Charleston" "Crazy Waters" In C I know this is my third or fourth blog today, but "Just the Same" "Poor Man's Dues" "Two Nights Stand"