Friday
7pm – Get a call on my cell. Detective Mark from the 78 (precinct) needs to see me. Nothing pressing he says. I tell him fine. 3pm tomorrow.
Saturday
3pm – I’m at the 78. I’m told my ex girlfriend, whom I haven’t even seen in over a month has filed a complaint against me. We were calling and emailing each other, but that is beside the point. A complaint is a complaint – and a complaint really isn’t that big of a deal. Standard procedure here is a DAT (desk appearance ticket) to happen in a month or so… I’d see a judge and he would evaluate the complaint and issue a verdict. I’ll skip the legal eagle stuff here and say the complaint was called ridiculous by the judge I did see (on Monday morning - 44 hours later).
3:30pm – turns out I have an outstanding warrant for riding my bicycle on the sidewalk in 2005.
3:31pm – turns out I’m under arrest on that warrant.
3:45pm – Mark (the detective), who is a very nice guy tells me how it’s going to be: I’ll be photographed and printed at the 78 and then transported to central booking to see my court appointed attorney and the judge. I should be done in a few hours.
3:46pm – I’m freaking out. Complaints, warrants, arrested, fingerprinted, put in a holding cell… I get to make a call or two. I have an attorney friend come down to see me…he basically says “it sucks you should be out in a few hours – just cooperate and chill out”. Response: Fine
4:30pm – I’ve been printed, photographed, and treated quite nicely at the 78… as nice as nice can be inside and 8x8 cell.
5:45pm – Time to be transported to Central Booking….but “wait”, they say as we (my handcuffed self and two good cops) are walking out the door, “Central booking is a mess…people are waiting outside (cuffed with their cop escorts). Best wait here till that clears up.”
6:30pm – Getting gloomy in my cell. Central booking isn’t open and my only way home is through central booking – see an attorney – see the judge. It’s ok though; Central booking is open all night and they have night court till 1am.
7:30 – cell – I get a chicken sandwich from the sympathetic detective.
8:30 – cell – find out there are “computer problems” at central.
9pm – Central booking closed. I’m crushed. I’ll be spending the night at the 78th precinct. They should have it fixed in the morning. I’m told to be thankful I’m at the 78th. It’s the Ritz compared to Central.
11:30 pm -- 8am Sunday morning – rolling around on a 1 x 5 foot wooden bench in an 8x8 cell. No blanket, no pillow, no nothing. Getting sore.
Sunday –
8am – screamed at the top of my lungs for someone to take me to the bathroom. 30 minutes later someone came (she said she couldn’t hear me). I piss, I have a glass of water (note: start the clock)
9am or so – Mark’s (my arresting dicks) partner brings be a half bagel and coffee. Tells me they will take me down to central booking soon.
10am – nothing, nobody, I piss in the coffee cup – nobody can hear me yelling.
11am – nothing. I juggle the trio of napkins I rolled up from breakfast.
12pm – nothing… I beg officers going by (I can hear them, I can’t see them) for some water. They tell me they will get someone.
1pm – nothing. No water since 8am. No food since my half bagel. No word on central booking.
12 straight hours in an 8x8.
2pm – 6pm – nothing. At 6 I get one slice of pizza and a soda. I don’t drink soda…. I have a sip.
7pm – Myself and two other guys are finally taken to central booking… handcuffed
8pm – there are hundreds of people there. I’m handcuffed to strangers and dying of thirst while being taken through the process. More photos, searched again and again, “inspected” by a medical person, and finally brought to a cell with 25 or 30 other guys not very much like me. To our right is a similar 20 x 20 cell – same to the left, front and back…. Central booking.
10pm?? – my name gets called along with 15 others. We are cuffed together and taken to another floor to another cell … this is progress.
11pm – nothing
11:30pm – taken to anther room… the final room before freedom. There are cups in this room. Dirty cups. One of those office sized water bottles is just sitting mouth up in the middle of the floor about a quarter full. Is it 24 or 72 hours before you suffer adversely from dehydration? I forget. I have a drink…tasted metallic.
You wait here till a court attorney calls your name from behind a glass divider. They have your case, whatever your case may be, and will be representing you when you see the judge. Night court ends at 1am. My name doesn’t get called in time. I’m taken back upstairs to spend the night.
Monday morning.
1am - A room, 50 x 50 perhaps, benches line the walls, the central floor is open. Milk containers and old PB&J sandwiches are crammed under the benches to make room for the 40 or 50 guys that are spending the night. It stinks. It stinks bad. I smuggled in some chapstick and shoved some gobs up my nose to try to deal. I find a spot on the grimy cement and lay some claim… moving a foot any direction is not possible due to the body next to me. I settle. I overhear some amusing stories…
2am – we begin to fade into the night.
2:01am – Music starts blasting. Deep trance, heavy base, no lyrics…. Terrible music, torturous music. I suppose the guard on duty could have played some ironic bluesy stuff. This was just sadistic. In 18 hours I’ve had one glass of poison water, half a bagel, and one slice of pizza…been handcuffed, photographed and transported. Now on the vibrating hard floor I just hope not have to spend another night.
5am – Breakfast. 8oz. milk container and small box of Rice Crispies. Yum.
8am – court opens.
9am – back downstairs (room where you see the attorney)
10am – I see an attorney. I beg her to get me out of here. She is confused by my case… a complaint, no physical contact, no threat of harm, no record, no nothing except the riding on the sidewalk ticket…. She calls the case ridiculous.
10:30 am – taken to court room
11am – judge throws out the bike ticket. Shakes his head at the complaint and finally give me that desk appearance ticket.
Quite a way to spend 44 hours. This happened three weeks ago. I'm just getting around to writing it because I have a job, I attend grad school, I volunteer, I play on multiple organized and disorganized sports teams...
An interesting thing here is, for some reason, I never did get angry at the ex. Strangely she never really entered my mind.
I'm a normal guy who had an abnormal experience. The only thing I want to point out is that for the other 300 - 500 people there it wasn't abnormal it was everday... and that might be the most sickening part of it for me.
Photo of protesters at Manhattan's 7th precinct police station via nickcalyx's flickr.
There's an interesting tale of how a ticket turned into a 44-hour stay on this Park Slope message board. Seems a girl filed a complaint against her ex-boyfriend and even though it was deemed ridiculous he still had to face it, which resulted in nearly two days at central booking. Turns out he had a warrant out for an old ticket given to him for riding his bike on the sidewalk. 
