Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Pardon Me, Officer, Dunkin Donuts Is Around the Corner - So Why Dontcha Leave My Ass Alone?: Trying to Sell Wares On Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg



Is this going to be a blog entry ranting about the cops? You bet your ass.

You know I've been harassed by them several times in my life (being a hippie in college in the Deep South was almost as much of a target as being an ethnicity in post-Giuliani NYC for the police, and I'm totally fucking serious) despite the fact that I'm "white", well-spoken, and generally abide by the law...when I'm not blatantly breaking it. But despite all of that, I've had friends who are cops, I support cops (hey man, when it's 2am and you're getting mugged, who do YOU wish was around to help out?) and when they are killed in the line of duty my heart goes out to them (the ones who aren't dirty, anyway) because these cats are putting their life on the line and their starting salary is 24k.

That's pretty fucked up, if you ask me. I bitch about how broke I am, and these dudes make less than I do.

So - the point of this rant is this:

Rosie and I were selling our wares (and no, I don't mean ass) on Bedford Avenue this weekend in the heart of Hipster Brooklyn. I live near there and have seen tons of young and old selling used books, clothing, furniture...you name it. She and I are both a couple of broke bitches, so I suggested she cart her ass over and hang out for the weekend to sell a few things and score a few bucks...if anything, enough to pay for the bands we were going to see that night. Perhaps it wouldn't be any real bread, but at least it would mean not having to dip into our pocket to go out for a night on the town. In the process we could sit, talk, giggle, and make fun of the tragically hip individuals that parade along Williamsburg streets as if they own the world and everyone in it.

So, I borrowed my neighbor's grocery cart and filled it with books and a few pairs of Doc Martens I had laying around and a jean jacket; Rosie had a bunch of cool dresses that her svelte self is too small for. Together we hit the streets, scored a cool spot under the shade of a tree, and we met a couple of cool people while we sat and sold. One dude, this guy named Chris, was really cool, and we hung out and talked to him. Apparently dude sells stuff every weekend. Thank God someone bought this cool antique box he was selling otherwise I would have bought it myself.

But I digress. The point of my rant, dear reader, is upon us.

Saturday was groovy. We made a some money. But Chris said that SUNDAY was the day, and since we still had lots of stuff left over and Rosie was going to crash anyway, we figured fuck it, why not? So when Sunday rolled around we were out again. But we had just laid our merchandise out for only twenty minutes, if that, when Smokey pulled up.

THREE cops emerge from the car and saunter towards us. Now, I don't know about you, but I really think that three cops vs. two women in flip flops selling books and sundresses is a little much, dontcha think? One of them (the SHORTEST one, of course - he screamed Napoleonic Complex) starts hassling me, demanding I.D.; I told him I didn't have any on me - which was true. My crib was a 15 minute walk and I just brought my stuff and some change. Then he wants my name, birth date, and address...so I give it to him. They start talking about writing us a ticket, saying we needed a vendor license to sell stuff on the street. Rosie and I were both so upset, I mean the point was to come out and try to make a few bucks, not get in the hole. So I tried to talk rationally with these guys and explain that we were just a couple of chicks who had a lot of shit and were trying to clear out a cluttered apartment and make a few dollars - uh...the truth.

After making us sweat for about five minutes, he comes back and says he's "going to let us off with a warning" but that we had to pack our shit and leave.

Now yes: it could have been worse. We could have been given tickets. Even worse, Rosie could have lost it and punched a cop and then we both would have been taken away.
*pause for small smile at the thought of him getting smacked*

But my main beef is that while they're there fucking with US, there are actual crimes being committed; some asswipe is sneaking into a woman's house and stealing her TV. Or raping her. Somewhere else, a nutjob is murdering someone.

At the very least, there are donuts these guys could be getting for free, I'm sure; Dunkin Donuts was about seven blocks away.

Why did they need to mess with us? Or anyone, for that matter, selling harmless stuff on the street? If they traveled someplace else they could find someone selling crack on the corner - give THAT person a hard time, don't fuck with us. I mean, hell - if you want me to go rob a liquor store, then maybe that's what I have to do...

And apparently, if you want to sell books you can do that without a license, but they have to be on a table, and stickered. What kind of bullshit is that? I'm going to bring a freaking table with me?

Anyway, yeah - it could have been worse, but it sure did bum me out that something as unnecessary for the cops to waste their time with became an issue. It's just total bullshit. Bottom line. And the worst part? I had to THANK them for not giving us a ticket. I wanted to kick 'em in the shins.

1 Comments:

Blogger acturhrtout24 said...

Cops suck big...you know the rest. I bet they ewre looking for some commission from busting you and Rosie's miniscule shin-dig. Asses!!!

1:39 PM  

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