cops don’t like being called pigs.

this is a very short story of being grabbed by an ottawa police officer, dragged into his car and then into holding cells, pepper sprayed, and then released with no charges the next morning.  this happened when i was in my mid-twenties (that’s 10 – 15 years ago).  i figure things like this probably happen regularly.


cops don’t like being called pigs.

“these cops want violence / fuck those denying it” – lee reed

“fucking pig,” i call out as the police car drives by.

it stops. the window rolls down, and he says something like, “what the fuck did you just say?”

i call him a fucking pig again. “fucking pig. fucking pig. fucking pig.”

he gets out of the car, and walks over to me. maybe he says something else, but he definitely orders me to get into the back seat of the police car. for no good reason, i decide that going limp is the best course of action, so i lie down. passive resistance, i think. fuck this guy, i think.

he’s clearly angry about the fact i’m now lying down.

maybe he tries to order me into the car again. anyways, he drags me a few feet until i’m about halfway into the backseat. at that point, when no one can see what he’s doing, he starts jabbing his fingers really hard into the pressure points where my neck and jaw meet. he wants me to climb the rest of the way into the car. it HURTS, but i’m way too drunk and way too stubborn to move.

he gets me all the way in the car. after checking if i had any warrants or conditions he drives to the police station on elgin, which is nearby.

he stops the car in the station, and, as i’m still limp, drags me into the station. i still have a scar on the thigh of my right leg from being dragged. in the station i get searched. a police officer takes my pants, and shoes. when the officer who arrested me starts dragging me into holding cells, all i’ve got on is a t-shirt and my socks.

he drags me to the back and to the left. when we’re most of the way to the cell, he stops, takes his pepper spray out and sprays me point blank in the eyes for a few seconds. luckily for me i noticed what he was doing and i closed my eyes. since my eyes are shut, it doesn’t actually hurt.

he drags me into the cell. i sit there with my eyes closed in the cold holding cells. the police keep the cells cold in order to lower peoples’ body temperature so that they will be easier to interrogate and more likely to agree to any conditions they might impose.

i talk a bit with someone in the cell next to me. he’s cold. maybe he’s completely naked. i give him my socks.

after an hour or two, having washed my eyelids off a few times I try opening my eyes. it HURTS. i close my eyes again, gasping and swearing a bit from the pain. i wash my eyelids some more.

at some point i fall asleep.

the next morning me and some native guy are released. the native guy is friendly. he seems to be in a pretty good mood.

i walk home.

endpolicebrutalityfor anyone whose likes free food, spoken word, hip-hop and ending police brutality and the violence of policing there will be a fucking amazing event for march 15 international day against police brutality, “Beats Beat The Police”


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