The Office of Citizen Complaints: The first step in filing a complaint.
Park Station: Where they took me.
Of the two police officers, it was Officer Vyu who was the belligerent one who cuffed me, leaving Lamela to play (for the most part) laconic good cop. I managed to get his badge number: 2103, based on the ATM receipt I kept crumpled in my left hand.
As to what San Francisco police procedure is exactly, I think they didn’t read me my Miranda rights because I was not being detained for questioning. But failing to cite a specific charge, with some nebulous reference to “littering” and then “drunk and disorderly.” When they cuffed me, Officer Vyu suggested it was for “littering.” But if that was indeed the charge, then why didn’t they just write me a ticket on the spot?
I’ve looked at the Penal Code section they cited me on the report and I see nothing in my conduct which suggested that I was “in a condition that he or she is unable to exercise care for his or her own safety or the safety of others,” nor was I interfering with or obstructing the street or the sidewalk. Again, there was nobody around and I certainly wasn’t sprawled out in the middle of the sidewalk. Perhaps they thought I was drunk because I have a form of astigmatism in my eyes that causes me to cock my head to one side and that causes my eyes to jiggle. But if this was the case, then why didn’t they shine a light in my eyes or conduct a BAC test? By what measure did they declare me drunk? Did they smell the second screwdriver that I had partially imbibed? Vodka is pretty smelly liquor. They certainly didn’t have me touch my finger to my nose or walk in a straight line. They simply cuffed me.
© 2006, Edward Champion. All rights reserved.