Thrown in Jail: Follow up

["Eddie Stakes" <eddiestakes@xxxx>]

Follow up:
My court date was set for March 23rd, Tuesday, 8:00am in Harris County Court
#1. This was according to the ABC Bail Bond sheet. Monday night, March 22nd
I decided to take my dog for a long walk to try to settle down somwewhat so
I could go to bed early, as it is a 15 mile jaunt down Interstate 10 to get
to downtown Houston, which is forever mired in construction. In other words,
a 15 mile drive could take you 45 minutes and then you have to battle for
parking downtown, parking is plentiful, just some more expensive than
others, like those prostitues I saw. And I didn't
know where the new country courthouse was anyhows. And I had heard you can't
be late or a warrant is issued. So I would have to be hitting the sack by
11:00pm for a wakeup at 5:30am and be on the road by 6:15am I guess, giving
myself some time to not only drive the highway to hell, but also find a
parking space, and go by the bail bondsman to check in, which was advised.
You know, for only being a three lane both ways Interstate, I-10 has more
than a quarter million cars on it DAILY. Think about it. And get ready
ya'll, as it is fixing to go under massive consteurrion by TxDot thru 2009,
and supposed to end up being 18 lanes with a tollway in the middle, don't
know whos wiseass idea that way, I think a rail would be better, but then it
would need a inspection sticker.

Huggy Bear stood at the front door of the decrepit building at the corner of
San Jacinto. Ironic. San Jacinto, THE symbol of Texas Freedom from Mexico.
Not the damned Alamo, San Jacinto. read your history books on where Texas
won it's freedom from Santa Anna's divisions. we love the Alamo, but the
real fight was just east of Houston for Texican Independence. So we have
Bail Bonds on San Jacinto. Inside the place looks like Gilley's from the
70s, cracked walls, trash, paint flaking off ceiling, water stains, at least
it didn't smell like urine. I had dropped a quarter in the electronic
parking meter, even though they are not supposed to start working until
8:00am, and it was not even 7:00am, the drive from west Houston featured no
traffic, rather unusual. Maybe they were all in jail.

I was told by the bondsman (a lady) that the courthouse was two blocks down,
and she gestured at it, a big imposing building shaped like a huge white
penis. I felt humor and laughed, and asked where I could park, as my 72
Ambassador silently waited near the meter, which had about 3 minutes left.
She said the farther from the courthouse the better and cheaper, go about
three blocks towards the Astros ballpark. So I drove around and sure enough,
all day parking for only $2.75, and I had the first spot there. It was five
blocks from the courthouse, but who cares. The downtown traffic was starting
to really pick up too, and parking lots were filling up fast. Across from
the courthouse is a new juvenile justice center and across from that is the
new Harris County Jail going up at a rapid pace, looks to be 15-20 stories.
Crime is a big business in Houston I guess, all that money made off
inspection stickers. I would guess when it is opened it will be a week
before the gang gnats move in, and urine will once again rule the air, while
the new paint will be spashed with pieces of bolonga sandwich and peanut
butter cookies and other vile things prisoners spit up, so it will look just
like the old place, smell like it too. That new county jail looks huge, and
dwarfs the old building I had been in last week, which is right across the
street.

Only employees were being allowed into the new courthouse, and there was a
big line of peasants like me waiting to get in, and would have to go thru a
series of metal detectors. But it was a endless row of sherriffs, deputies,
Houston police, constables and others wearing badges going in before
everyone else, not a good sign to me at least. Across the street a number of
fellows stood on a corner looking for work, hopefully for the day I guess.
Yes, they are in this country illegally. You can call them immigrants all
you want but immigrants come from all over the globe too. And while you
can't fault anyone wanting to make a better life for themselves and their
families, I thought this is extremely ironic that here is a large number of
law enforcement, literally the hornet's nest of them, and well, a number of
people who have broken the laws of this country by entering, standing in a
group right across from them. Maybe I should have walked over and given all
those fellows wanting work a inspection sticker and told them those cops
over there have some 'work' for them. Nah. I can't tell you how many times
*I* have hired illegals to do work for me, moving stuff in my warehouse,
painting, sheetrock, levelling lawn, even concrete, and I pay whoever it is
$10 a hour, which $100 for a day is what they would make in their home
country for a month.

Ru-Paul sashayed past me selling Houston Chronicle's, good to see him/her/it
is still around and doing fine, nice hair too. The courthouse was finally
opened and common people were being herded in like cows. I stood in line and
clutched my crucifix and big wad of keys, knowing I would have to put both
in the bowl to get thru. Up on the 8th floor you could tell this building
was rather new as not only did the elevators work, unlike the Soviet era
other buildings I had been in, where you might not get to the floor, or like
the poor doctor who was cut in half in the Med Center recently, every
elevator is a adventure. There was not even a gang scribbling or spit on the
ceiling on these. Yet. The view fromt he 8th floor was nice, you could see
well, the new jail going up, the juve detention center, the Enron field or
whatever they call the ballpark now, new new Hilton about 1/2 mile away is
nice, the 85 or so Texas Commerce tower is close, as are a number of other
gleaming skyscrapers. Down on the street I started counting the cars in the
parking lot across the street, it is $15 per car there and there was now 230
cars in the lot, quite a racket, easy money too. I wondered how many of
those cars at $15 a pop had a valid inspection sticker.

There was a hispanic fellow I had talked to not only at city, but at county,
and I told him thanks for the attorney number he had given me, but it was no
help as the number had a collect call BLOCK on it, like all others I tried.
I told him I STILL remembered the number too. And I mentioned to him that
suddenly I was really popular as lawyer letters were piling up in my
mailbox, and had received over 20 of them so far. Everyone had written me
except the fellow Jim Adler who calls himself "the Texas Hammer: the tough
smart attorney!" Maybe all these other ones were mere earthlings, "the dumb
weak attorney!" But I found humor in telling this fellow that. While we were
talking, a white fellow that was wearing a bermuda shirt and shorts was
sitting next to me with two I believe Chinese friends. I told him that
chances are, the judge would kick him out of the courtroom with shorts, as
they do that. He asked what I was there for and amazingly enough, his asian
friends were there for the same thing. As was my hispanic friend. So you had
four of us there with bad inspection stickers. Maybe there is a serious
problem with these things on the street.

I was advised ( by the hispanic guy with glasses I had befriended in city
and county) to tell the judge I don't have a attorney. Ask for a court
appointed one. Ask for a continuance, of which they would reschedule it for
a later date, and after I signed a affadavit, the appointed attorney would
then try to reduce my charge from a different class, and fine. I told them
that I sort of already had my mind made up I was going to plead 'non
contest' as "possession is 90% of the law" and it would be impossible to
find the gypsies, much less have them sign anything unless it was a check,
stating they screwed me out of my original sticker. And I sure don't keep
records like that, whether for the decal, or paying the gypsies cash. The
hispanic guy had two tickets and said that was his strategy, to get a court
appointed lawyer then simply ask for a re-set over and over until they
dropped it, which usually happens. I told him I don't want to keep coming
back down to this hell hole and would talk to the DA myself, or the judge.
The Jimmy Buffet fellow next to me said to the asians that is what he was
going to do with them; the hispanic guy's defense. I thought this was
strange, that people are planning their defense outside in the hallway
talking to strangers they will never see again.

The floor was quiet with only a few conversations going on with some of the
people, probably over 80 people waiting for their respective courts to open
up. The doors are supposed to unlock at 8:00am, but none of them opened
until 8:25am, and you know when the doors open, you can HEAR them and then
it looks like opening day at a Wal Mart that has $25 tv's on sale. I sat in
one of the front rows. Courtrooms are sometimes intimidating, depending on
what you are in them for. This one was pleasant. Didn't smell like urine,
but the new carpet already had some stains, probably disgusted people like
me spitting. Not because I don't cherish our justice system, which I think
is one of the best in the world. But because depending on the reason you are
there, you may not feel like it is the best and today I felt like I was at a
Iraqi Tribunal.

No attorney. Alone. You look around and it is strange to see how people come
to a court of law. Used to be you had a suit or would have to dress up, now
it looks like you are going to a Portland Trailblazers NBA game. Maybe that
is what is wrong with society, no respect. But I now also fail to respect a
system which I see has failed me. If there is ever a next time, I'll wear a
NBA tshirt also, maybe ear rings in both ears. I guess it obviously don't
matter anymore. I'm here, this is Judgement Day. I was fingerprinted about 7
times, and photographed once. I was incarcerated in a American city jail for
24+ hours, and then led in a chain gang handcuffed to 11 other inmates to a
county jail where I was for another 6+ hours. For a simple motor vehicle
infraction. I have no record,a nd last time I was in jail was in 1983, when
a country western club I was was working at was raided by TABC and all the
employees were hauled down to city. And here I found myself sitting in a
courtroom in Harris County, Houston, Texas, so something, to me at least,
trivial.

Several lawyers came and went, and some called to their clients, who then
went with them to the back, or outside the courtroom to discuss. One lawyer
looked like Columbo, disheveled, and his client was obviously agitated to be
there, sitting about 10 feet from me. Looking at his 2nd DWI, his lawyer
told him that the DA is offering 60 days and $4000 fine. His insurance would
go up to about $100 a month or more. I tried not to listen, but hell, it was
right next to me. The guy said he wanted no jail and would pay any fine, and
ask for probation. Maybe this is what the courtrooms are designed for.
People who break the law. Over and over. A young kid who looked to me like a
gang member approached the Sherriff who told him to get out of the fenced
iron gate area. There were people working in there, and one of them was a
young boy about 25 or so, looked like Clark Kent without glasses. I was
stunned when this fellow called my name and asked me to come over and
introduced himself as the DA. I looked at him and said 'huh!' And he said
'sir?' I told him that 'you look mightly young for a DA, but good for you if
you are in this field and I hope you go far; my oldest son is 24 and trying
for his Masters in Marine Biology at A&M" He said, 'that is real nice, good
to hear, thank you' and then said if I had a lawyer. No. Asked did I want
one. I asked what are my options. He said: guilty as charged; nolo
contendere/no contest; not guilty. I asked if I am considering 'no contest'
what am I looking at? He said probably a 15 day sentence and $2000 fine. I
said, maybe I need to get a court appointed attorney. He said, this is not
that serious. You have probably the weakest case in here, of which I was
happy to hear, but I WAS STILL IN THERE. He said, ok, look, how about a $200
fine and court costs for a no contest plea as I'll give you two days credit
for time served in jail already, and you won't ever have to come back again.
I said I'll take it, not realizing that this will be on my record, but what
the hell. So I filled out some papers and sat back down. I had to ask for
another pen as the one he gave me didn't write. Figures.

I was one of the first ones before the judge, who looked like he was playing
Doom on his computer. The courtroom is all computerized now, I wonder what
would happen if power fails, do they get data corruption, or crash or
reschedule, or what.
The judge was a quiet man and asked me what I wanted to plead. I told him
'no contest your honor' and he said, "very well, step over there and get
fingerprinted, and they will sign you up. Good luck sir." I said 'thank you
your honor' and walked to another desk to stick my right thumb in ink once
again. I had only sat down for about five minutes and they called me again
and I was instructed to take this yellow sheet to the third floor, pay the
fine, and that is all. So I went down to the third floor, and there was a
crosseyed sherriff standing there and I asked him where room 1030 was to pay
fines, and he pointed over there. I was one of the first in line and the
line behind me got large, quick. They take credit cards too and in yet
another ironic twist, if you can't pay the whole fine in the same day,t hey
pop you with yet another $25 fee!

It was now about 10:30am, and I had been in 'the system' again for about 2
hours.
I paid the fine, got my receipt and left. Walking outside all the hispanic
illegals across the street had found a job for a day, good for them. The
temp was about 73 degrees and a nice east wind blowing in from the Gulf, and
there was a really large line of potential jurors standing along one side of
the big penis shaped courthouse, waiting to get in and register their civil
duty. I walked two blocks down to the old bail office and rechecked in,
letting them know I was done, they scratched off my name unceremoniously and
told me I was good to go. I go now. I go far now.

I headed back to the Ambassador which was 3 blocks away, and the parking lot
there, had filled up, so did the one across the street and the one next to
that. What a racket. I bet they can pay their taxes on that little parcel of
land in one month. I looked at every inspection sticker on every vehicle I
passed in the parking lot. I still don't know what the hell is the
difference and they all look the same to me as I walked past dozens of cars.
I drove over to Franklin and turned right, and saw a phone near the Minute
Maid Park ballpark, finally figured out what it is called now, but there was
a phone on a stick with construction barrels near it and I had to call my
wife to let her know I was fine.

But before I went home I would however have
to go to East End, the barrio about a mile away, as if you come to Houston,
and I don't see why you would want to after reading this story, but over on
Navigation across fromt he original Ninfa's is a tiny little taco place
shoved in a house called Villa Arcos which means house of arrows. If you
don't know it is there you might pass it. It was time to get a carne guisada
and a eggs/bacon/cheese taco and a big Borden's OJ. They have some of the
best tacos in Houston, about $1.25 each, and not shy about filling them up,
and the bacon is thick cut, the carne is hot and spiced perfectly in the
gravy. This would make me forget the shit bononga sandwich in jail, or the
eggs with larvae and uncooked grits. And the green hot sause they give you
sticks with you, not overpowering, but just enhances all the food, check
them out.

I sat there Tuesday, March 23rd, 2004 eating my tacos, thinking about the
whole experience of the past week. It was mind numbing and almost surreal.
And it really did happen in my adopted hometown. And I had zero recourse or
way of showing anyone how this whole situation transpired to begin with.
There are obviously some laws in the books that need to be changed is now my
opinion.

While Eddie Griffin of the Houston Rockets shot at, and beat the shit out of
his girlfriend months ago, was arrested, and charged with a variety of
charges, he has the best attorneys in Houston money can buy, the 'dream
team' if you will. Needless to say the charges have been whittled down to
guess what: a misdemeanor, same thing I was charged with. Yes, he will have
a fine and probation, but same charge as a bad inspection sticker as opposed
to trying to kill someone and beating them senseless; but because of having
a attorney, and the money to pay for such priviledge, he is getting off with
a slap on of the wrist. I don't want to compare my getting hauled to jail
for 33 hours to his shooting at his old lady and beating the shit out of
her, but when (and if) you see the comparison, you see how I guess justice
can indeed be bought by those who can indeed afford it. I always thought
that was just a myth.

More to come.
Eddie Stakes