|The only proven
danger in smoking cannabis is that it's illegal. The following is a
true account by a 16 year old boy which illustrates that statement
well. It is particularly significant in that it isn't a rare occurrence
but something that happens much too often.
I had just washed some clothes in the sink and
put them in front of the fire to dry. "They'll be okay for 5 minutes" I
thought as I left to post a letter.
But, little did this innocent helpless child realise that today,
Monday 24 September was going to be one of the most traumatic of
his short, innocent life!
Having posted my letter and being new to Shields I was interested
in finding a way home through the back lanes. I looked down one which
appeared to be a dead end so I turned round to walk back up the road
when an unobtrusive bottle-green mini pulled over and a young guy
with black wavy hair did a pretty bad Batman-leaves-the-Batmobile-at-speed
Thrusting an ID card up my nose, our pseudo 'caped
crusader' gabbled "Pleesoficer
"Uy?" asked I, bright as usual.
"Doan mess uz about" added the short 'Pleesmans' somewhat
burlier companion. (At this point in the proceedings I feel it is
my duty to add that this is a fair example of that well known tactic
where you get one 'reasonable' tyke, sorry, type, who observes that "We've
all got our jobs to do" etc etc, bullshit bullshit ...) and
the other guy (normally what is affectionately known as a 'heavy')
is all for hammering you straight away. (Unlike the other sly get,
who, in his misinformed state, tries to lull you into a false sense
The heavy is the type who hovers in the background
Bugeryuh" and doing a fairly passable imitation of Gary Glitter
(on a good night). He also occasionally finds it necessary to yell "Old
me back, old me back, al kill im, so elp me."
This ploy of confusing the 'prisoner' was widely used by the Nazis
so it must be good(!)
And now back to the story!
Weed: "Wosyer name?"
Heavy: "Yeh, cumon den."
Me: "Duhher ... erm! (?) wasuplike, and I know me rights."
Heavy: "Yer've got no rights. Now. Wots your name?"
Me: "I'm saying nothing. Am I being arrested?"
Heavy: "Wots yer name? Yeh bugeryuh" ... (Weed - calm down
now, don't scare the kid, alright alright son. Now come on. Wosyername)
Me: "Gibbergibber, twitchtwitch - you're just tryna scare me.
Am I being arrested? I've done nothing so you can't arrest me anyway." (So
Heavy: "Now look ear" ...
Weed: (Cutting in) "all right, we've reason to believe you're
in possession of dangerous drugs. Now. Wotsyername??? (Heavy: "Yeah,
das rite ... Duh?") (They had reasonable grounds to believe
so, after all I have got long hair!)
Me: "Why me? Worav I done?"
Weed: "Aw cum on" (be a sport?)
Young lad walks through a back alley to avoid police offier!
"Cum on Son."
Me: "Ey!" (Duh)(?) (I saw nothing wrong in this, however
he seemed outraged!)
Heavy: "Cum on get in the car." (unmarked green mini)
Me: "Come off it. Let's see your ID." (Weed shows ID whilst
heavy shoves me into de van)
In the van, heavy drives whilst weed sits leering. Heavy is mad.
Me: "I'm allowed one phone call if I'm arrested."
Heavy: "Yer'll get a phone call when I say so. Wosyername???" (car
Me: ... (false name)
Heavy: "Where jalive?"
Me: ... (false address)
Heavy: "Cum on. There's no such place. NOW CUMON!"
Me: (Gulp, Kringe, Kringe)
Heavy looks round for an answer. Car serves violently. Weed kringes
and looks uncomfortably like a child with a wet nappy thenceforth.
Meanwhile (back at the ranch) I'm attempting the impossible and
trying to get comfortable in the back. The swerve knocks me against
the doors. Heavy spins round like he's been goosed with a rattlesnake
and rams a somewhat podgy finger into my mouth.
"Trying to jump out!!!" he squeals,
I cower against doors - "Come off it man."
Heavy: "Never mind that."
(Rest of journey passes. We arrive at crummy back yard of pig pen.
Then on to a bare 3rd floor room marked 'Interview Room' (alias Dracula's
tomb). I am sat down in a chair.
Heavy: "Now cum on."
(Me thinx "Hello sailor, come out with another
'come on' like that an I'll smash yer face in!)
Me: "I want to make a phone call" (winge,
Heavy: "When ah say. Where do you live?"
Weed: "How old are you?"
Me: (Konfused) "Erm!"
Both: "COME ON"
Me: ... "Okay ... I'm living at ... till I get a flat. An
Weed: "Why d'you lie, uh?"
Me: (Thinx - das right tell de world) "Er ... er ... (!) ...
Ah! I was scared(!) ... erm, yeh, I was scared!" (the answer
Heavy: (Leering): "Ha!"
Me: (Thinx - asshole)
Weed: (sits on desk) "Now look son, just across the road from
the town hall live 2 of the biggest pushers in town so when we saw
you in the lane we thought you were holding for them. And you did
give a false name and address." (so there).
Me: "I know my rights, I want a phone call."
(Heavy re-enters, I wince in frustration) "When I say so," he
Me: (Brightly) "Ah, then am I under arrest? Coz if I am I am
allowed a phone call."
Heavy: (Tres de la heavily) "you're here aren't you?? and you'll
get a phone call when I say so!!"
Me: (Thinx, up yours too, fat ponce)
I had not been told my rights (anything you say etc etc) so legally
I was not arrested. They are allowed to search for dope though and
I could have been searched in the street if I had not been unco-operative,
heavy's reluctance however shows that all was not correct!
Weed: "Empty your pockets."
Heavy: "Aye, dasright. Do im thouroughly, shoes an all." (Exit
heavy studying notes made during 'interview')
Pockets - empty, empty.
Weed: (examining contents of my pockets) "You know you could
have made it a lot easier on yourself if you hadn't started on about
(Weed then frisks me and examines a small piece of Kleenexe tissue
(used to wipe my occasionally somewhat snotty nose) (true).
Me: "I only asked for my rights coz I'm
allowed one phone call."
Heavy: (from another room) "When I say!!! Who'd you call anyroad?"
Me: ... (I named a good friend who would have raised holy hell if
I'd been held illegally).
About here I feel it is my duty to inform our younger readers that
legal rights, as such, only apply when in the sight of that Great
but gullible JoePublic. When you enter a pig pen in the company of
2 or more burly policemen, a wicked fairy (called Heath) casts a
spell which automatically removes all your human, and indeed, humane
rights. There now, doesn't that thrill yer?
(Enter heavy reading notes). "I've checked,
you haven't got a record anyway."
Me: (thinx, geraway! Bright boy! I could have told you that ages
ago, if you'd asked, if I had a record it wouldn't be in my name
Me: (to Weed) "What am I here now for then?"
Weed: (fingers poker dice from my pocket) "These could be loaded,
going equipped to cheat?"
Me: (grinning) "dats a laff! (hah!) D'you wanna game to find
Weed: (reddening) "Duhno, no, erm. Yes! (points to door key)
going equipped to steal, it might not be yours!"
Weed (getting cocky and frustrating) "you better swot up on
your law, you're not allowed a phone call (so there?)" this
was only coz I was not legally arrested, however I must stress that
in situations like this it is best not to argue coz fighting a case
is hard enough but fighting it from a hospital bed is even worse.)
Me: "What a lot of fuss over nowt eh?"
Weed: "Not at all. You might have had some drugs!"
Me: (gasp!) "ME Ah never touch the stuff (a lie) and I still
want a phone call."
(enter heavy) "You've no rights here!"
Me: (bravely) "Yes I have."
Heavy: (still more heavily, leering) "Not ear yer aven't (Jim
Lad!?) we're all alone."(!) (erk!)
Me: (looking at 6ft odd heavy) "Ye ... ERRRR ... Yeh ... em?
... then again praps not ... duh."
Heavy: "Well just remember that next time you speak to a police
Me: (who, me?) "Erm? Yuh" (thinx - ah'll remember and have
the sense to kik his ass!)
Heavy: (looking at my 2 silver bracelets) "MMMM nice(?) let's
have a look at yer bracelets".
Me: ... ? ... ! ... ? ... (gasp) ... (thinx, whoops! Get him! Saucy
cat!) ... "Yer, why?"
Heavy: (examining inside rims, for hidden dope?) "nice, where
do you get them?"
Me: "I was given one and bought the other, why?"
Heavy: (embarrassed) "Come on an I'll show you the lift ..."
Me: (thinx, be like that then. And you know wot you can do with your
lift so there!)
Heavy: (fumbles with lift buttons. Finally fluffs it completely and
manages to get hand caught.) "Go straight out when you get to
Me: (as if I'd wait around) "Tara then see yer around ... I
mean er" (damn)
And so as the lift doors close on our hero we bid farewell to Shields
The moral is obvious. You're eligible for arrest if you've got long
hair. But just imagine: every hapless freak in the north-east who
goes to post a letter being busted for dope: just be careful with
that letter Eugene.