By Sloane Solomon
August 9th, 2009 was a day where all the events of my entire life seemed to funnel seamlessly into one terrible amalgamation of every bad decision I have ever made. The day started off like any normal day. I was excited about heading over to my best friend Ali’s house for an evening of tacos and pool time antics. Summer was dwindling down and we were all facing the inevitable sadness that comes with the realization that the summer after you graduate college is the last real summer of your life. We ate our tacos and jumped in the pool, just us three ladies, enjoying the night and a belly full of ground beef.
At around 1 a.m. I decided to head on home. I always take the Palmetto back towards the Grove, but on that fateful night, the Palmetto entrance was closed and so I headed down US-1, unaware of the terrible consequences of that decision. Right before Kendall Drive a cop car pulled up behind me and followed me for a bit. He passed me and drove ahead for a few moments before slowing down and letting me ahead. As soon as I passed him the cop turned on his siren and pulled me over into the Kinko’s parking lot.
I spent six hours sitting on the floor of a vomit and blood caked jail cell next to two crackheads
He explained that my tag was expired and he was going to need my license and registration. He shined his flashlight into my car and asked me why I wasn’t wearing any pants. I explained that I had just left a pool party and my clothes were wet. I was wearing a men’s button down, a plaid Juicy Couture bikini top, black lace panties and Keds slipons. He returned to his car and I immediately texted Ali, “I think I’m getting arrested.” It was a joke at the time, but it turned out to be the most important message I’d ever sent her.
Ten minutes later, I’m still sitting in my car when backup arrives. The cop asks me to step out of my vehicle and “sign a couple of tickets.” I agree and sign the tickets on the hood of his car while the other officers snicker at my less than police appropriate attire. The cop asks me for my right hand, I assume to take a thumb print, and before I can protest, I am handcuffed and facedown on the hood of Officer Martin’s Pinecrest police car.
There are a lot of things that go through your mind when you’re being arrested. Is this going to be featured on Cops? Am I really about to go to jail? Can the cops see my entire ass hanging out of my underwear? Can I put on a little lipgloss if I’m really going to be on Cops? It turns out that I never signed a form to reinstate my license in the state of Florida and therefore I had a bench warrant out for my arrest.
To make a long story short (too late) I was carted off on a Saturday night at 2 a.m. to Dade County Jail, where I spent six hours sitting on the floor of a vomit and blood caked jail cell next to two crackheads, one with blood seeping out of her mouth, and the other who kept slamming her body into the cell door, screaming in what can only be described as Aramaic-esque.
At 6 a.m., I was finally released because Ali, a friend unlike any friend I’ve ever known, somehow found me, bailed me out and rescued me from the worst place I have ever known.
I immediately texted Ali, “I think I’m getting arrested.” It was a joke at the time, but it turned out to be the most important message I’d ever sent her.
I don’t remember the following hours, I was pretty shell shocked from the entire jail experience. I watched Nickelodeon, I called my parents and I slept like I had never slept before. When I woke up, the world looked like it was bathed in a new, brighter light. I realized that when I was in jail, even though I was there for a minor traffic misdemeanor, I was essentially no better than the man that came in for beating his wife, or the woman that came in for robbing a liquor store. Every bad decision that I had ever made, every time I procrastinated on paying a ticket, or completing a Spanish assignment, every lie I ever told, every person I ever hurt, led me to this moment, where I ended up pant-less in prison.
It was the scariest night of my life, but it was also one of the best experiences I will ever know. It forced me to look at myself in a way I had never looked at myself before. After that night I decided that it was time for me to be an adult, step up the plate, pay my bills, complete my assignments on-time, better myself as a human and always, always, always, put on a pair of pants when I leave my house.
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