Act I: Trouble in Paradise
I was spending this night like many others, out and about, enjoying Berns nightlife. I had split off from my friends an hour or so earlier, and had taken it upon myself to make some new friends whom I was hanging with at this particular moment. The venue, a late night café, close to the notorious Reitschule ( http://www.reitschule.ch ). Let me give you a quick history on this place, because I'm quite sure that none of you reading this can speak German. Reitschule is a very big, old schoolhouse right on the edge of downtown Bern, which around 40 or 50 years ago was taken over by squatters. The squatters have since run the place, with few problems except for some problems with police. It's hard to miss, the train passes it as you enter Bern, and it is just this massive, completely graffiti covered place, filled with lefties and punks and dreads, and most of Berns junkie population likes to shoot up under the streetlights in the parking lot. There have been some killer concerts there, and for me, it is just a great escape from the arrogance that can be found in most other places in Bern. Anyways, back to my story. I wasnt actually hanging out in the main Reitschule, but rather the café owned by the reitschule down the street. Technically its part of the same building, but not exactly close. The night was going great so far, I hadnt had any run-ins with the 031 streetgang which have given me problems in the past (see later posts), and this homeless dude in a tophat had actually played me some blues in exchange for a beer, the video of which I will also put up here.
Then, as I'm stepping outside for a cigarette, I hear *Pop!* *Pop!* *Pop!* which definitely sounded a bit like rifle fire, the breaking of bottles, and something in the air that was really biting my throat. 'Get inside,' my new friend tells me, 'Its the staff from the Reitschule duking it out with police again, and the cops have shot teargas'.
Ok, so, no problems, I go inside, and he begins to explain to me that from time to time, things like this happen. The staff will go on the roof, start throwing bottles and calling them pigs, and the pigs will then respond by firing rubber bullets and shooting teargas, but usually it ends with no harm done. Alright fine, its the punks at it again. 'Beer please!'
About an hour later as I'm leaving the cafè, I manage to walk around 5 feet when a police van screeches to a halt behind me, and this big dude, who we will call Dumb, grabs me by the coat and forces me inside the van, which is being driven by Ugly.
'Whoa whoa whoa,' I say, 'What did I do? I'm going home!'
'This is a control,' Barks Dumb
'You're coming from the Reitschule?' Asks Ugly
'No man I'm coming from the café, you just saw me leave!'
At this point they are not responding to me, and place me in handcuffs as we begin to speed off.
Act II: Bare-Assed in Bern
Now readers, this isnt Ottawa that I'm living in right now... There is no such thing as a public drunkeness charge, or a drinking in public charge, or that shit about having open bottles. Drinking in public places is perfectly acceptable and many people feel free to sleep drunk on the ground mid-day. So at this point I'm really asking, what the fuck is going on here?
Dumb grabs me by my handcuffs and yanks me out of the backseat, which made my wrists fucking burn like hellfire. Ugly leads, while Dumb has me practically dragging behind him as they lead me into the police station, and at this stage I'm fairly certain that they are not just driving this confused tourist home.
Ugly walks off into an little computer room, while Ugly brings me into a small room with a table, chair, and garbage bin. He tells me to sit down, and he takes off my handcuffs. 'Empty your pockets,' he tells me. 'Fuck, yeah sure, ok no problem,' I say, because as far as I know, I havent done anything illegal and I'm not holding any controlled substances except for two innocent bottles of beer. He looks through my wallet, emptys it out, and all that jazz, then he says. 'Take off your shoes.' So I do. Next comes socks, belt, pants, jacket, shirt, and then at this point I'm down to my underwear. 'Take them off' he tells me. 'DUDE I HAVENT FUCKING DONE ANYTHING!' Now, at this point you should realize that Dumb didnt get to where he is right now for his quick-thinking. He's a big fucking dude, maybe 6 foot 5, and built like a, well, hes built like a big fuckin asshole cop. I'm trying to protest, and the guy shoves me so I slam against the wall, and he says, take them off NOW.
So I do. What else could I do in this position? I'm an english-speaking seasonal worker in a building filled with notoriously-violent swiss police with guns. So I fuckin oblige. Off with the boxers, and here I am, in a strange country with strange people, completely naked, covering my junk with my hands and just thinking why the fuck...
Thank God, he checks my underwear first, and gives them back to me, but ya know, what happened happened, and even as he tears through my shirt, jacket, shorts and shoes (sorry mom, those were the ones you gave me and yes he ripped them apart), giving them each back to me one by one, when youve been nude in front of a big dude against your will, its strange but even with my clothes back on it still felt like they were off.
He stands me against the wall and gets me ready for getting my mugshot taken. He says, stand still, and when I put my hands in my pockets he slaps them away.
'What the fuck am i going to do to you man, youre like 2 feet fucking taller than me!'
He looks confused by the question, but I'm sure this isnt new to him. He raises the camera, presses the button.
Nothing.
He looks at the camera.
Tries pushing a few different buttons, then tries to take my picture again.
Nothing.
He gives the same confused look to the camera, and then i look at the blinking red Battery light.
What a fucking retard, I think to myself.
'Look, man' I say 'Plug the camera into the wall when you take the picture of me.'
He tries to take the photo again. Nothing.
'No no dude, take the battery cord for the camera and plug it into the wall, its just out of Accu.'
'SHUT UP!'
(A few minutes later he leaves the room, comes back with a new camera and takes the picture. Yay...)
So I'm clothed again, feeling numb, and Dumb pushes me into the room where Ugly is typing and they start asking me questions.
Act III: Switzerlands Finest
The following are excerpts of conversation between me and Ugly
(1)
'You were throwing bottles at us.'
'What?'
'You were inside the Reitschule, and you were throwing bottles at us, you were attacking the police.'
'Why the fuck would I attack you?! I'm a fucking tourist!'
'We saw you do it.'
'You're lying, because I DIDNT FUCKING DO IT!'
'Why were you at the Reitschule?'
'I already told you I wasnt AT the Reitschule, I was at the fucking CAFE!'
'These beer bottles we found on you, are the same kind that were thrown at us.'
'ITS THE SAME PEOPLE WHO OWN REITSCHULE AND THE CAFE!'
Dumb:'You know we've collected the glass that was thrown! Our CSI guys will fingerprint you and if you dont tell us now, your DNA will be found on the bottles and you'll get an even worse charge!'
(Now at this point, I really had to laugh... CSI guys, he must think I'm fuckin mental... So I call his bluff..)
'Yes! Good! Perfect! Ok, bring them in right now, take my fingerprints, take the fingerprints off the bottles, and then it can prove that I'm innocent!'
'No, if we get them it will take a few days and you will have to spend that time in prison.
(Right...)
(2)
'Ok, man, look, this is ridiculous, I didnt do anything, I want to talk to a lawyer or something.'
'No.'
'What the fuck do you mean, no?'
'In Switzerland you dont have the right to talk to a lawyer before the police.'
'What...?'
(Now, by this point I had around 5 or 6 beers in my system, and at this exact moment I was ready to believe this.)
(3)
'So you're an English tourist? How long have you been here?'
'I'm Canadian. And I've been here since April.'
'Dont lie to us, you're English, you're in the computer!'
'I'm CANADIAN dude I was born in CANADA! My father Edward is from England, which enables me to have dual citizenship and work here!'
'Oh so you work here.'
'YES man read the fucking T-Shirt!' (I was wearing a black t-shirt which had my restaurants name on it)
'Working illegally right?'
'I'm legal, I have my fucking working permit at home!'
'Which permit?'
'Its an L, for seasonal work.'
'Well 5 months is kind of long for a seasonal worker isnt it?'
'My girlfriend is swiss.'
'Do you have Canadian ID?'
'You've got my fucking wallet man you tell me.'
(right now, Dumb tries to chime in again, to try and call MY bluff... Fucking idiot.)
'So do they have beer in Canada?', asks Dumb
'Best in the world, man.'
'What are the names?'
'What? I dunno, Molson Canadian, Labatt Blue, Moosehead all come to mind.'
'Uh huh.'
Act IV: Enter Shorty
At this point, I've been in holding being questioned for about 2 hours, when in walks a short, young cop with a couple of tattoos on his arm. He seems to know english better than them and is actually my favorite of the three cops... He seemed to be the only one who saw what was going on, and also the one with the worst poker-face. Here is some excerpts out of my conversation with him.
'So did you throw those bottles?'
'I DIDNT THROW FUCKING ANYTHING MAN, this guy told me he could get some fucking CSI guys down here who could prove that I didnt do anything and that I could go!'
'So why are you at the Reitschule anyway?'
'You know Bern better than me man, tell me another area where there are bars open past midnight?'
'Its a bad area, filled with junkies and people who want to cause trouble with the police!'
Dumb: 'Are you a junkie?!'
'Do I look like a fucking junkie to you?!'
(Dumb seems taken back by this comment, makes me stand up, and checks my arms and feet for needle-track. WOW DODGED A BULLET THERE!)
Shorty: 'So why are you out here in these black clothes?'
(Note, yes, i was wearing black clothes... Lets go down the list of my black clothes... Black Nike Trackpants - 90 Dollars. Black with White Pinstripe Hoodie - 100 dollars. Black Tshirt - 25 dollars. Black skater-shoes - 130 dollars. Black adidas socks - 20 dollars.... All in all, I'm wearing a 365 dollar outfit, it was actually my clubbing clothes.)
'My girlfriend says I look good in black, maybe? And I do!'
'Kid, only punks and anarchists wear all black. This is why you get singled out.'
'So youre telling me the reason I got picked up tonight is because I'm wearing all black?'
'Yes.'
(Wow...)
'Well fuck man its a good thing my skins white or else I'd have real trouble huh?'
(I get a look from each of the cops at this point. Hahah bastards...)
Later... Still talking with shorty.
'Man we know that you were one of the ones throwing bottles. People on the street said it was you.'
'Oh the people on the street said it? What people? How is it there are people telling you things that didnt happen huh?'
'They said they saw you in the reitschule and that you were throwing bottles at us.'
'Youre lying.'
'No I'm not, we arrested them and they said it was you.'
'So how many other people did you arrest besides me then?'
'Around 5...'
'Then how come all the other rooms were empty when I came in?!'
(No answer. at this point, its real easy to tell when Shorty is lying... I guess its because hes new?)
Jeremy:'Alright man i have a question for you. This guy over here told me that I cant call a lawyer. is that true?'
'What?'
'I asked to talk to a lawyer, and he told me that I cant until you all were done with me. He said that was swiss law. is that true?'
(No answer from Shorty, or any of the cops at this point... I just hang my head, pissed.)
Final Act: A Woman, Enraged
So now, they are telling me that since I was being held under suspicion of a crime by them, and since I was interrogated and took up these nice officers time, I had to pay a charge of 300 swiss francs, which was essentially paying for their time. Wow what a dumb mistake by me to make these police officers think I was worth investigating. D'oh!
They start to tell me they need the money, or else I need to spend the night in prison until I can get it... I had no money until the next day, I realized, and there was only one chance.
'I can pay this charge tonight, but... its from my girlfriend.'
'Whats her name? Where does she live?'
(noooo way am I letting a couple cops wake up my baby, not unless I'm there too)
'Her name is Yvonne, theres a picture of her in my wallet.'
'Whats her last name?'
'HER NAME IS YVONNE'
'Where does she live?'
'I'm not telling you that unless you assure me that I'm coming too.'
'That depends if you cooperate.'
'Man I'm only cooperating if you tell me that I'm gonna be the one at her door!'
'Whats her number?'
'I dunno.'
'Tell us.'
'Give my the phone and I'll call her myself man.'
Shorty: 'Ok come with me, we'll let you talk to her.'
We walk to a different room with a phone. I dial... Straight to her voicemail. Oh fuck she has her phone off, like she does every night.... FUUUUCK....
'Uhh... We can only go there man her phone is off.'
'No,' Says shorty, 'Only if they say you can go.'
'Well I'm not giving you the address unless you say I can come too!'
Enter Ugly....
Ugly: '123 Something St.?' (not her real address obviously, I changed it because you never know whos reading and she wouldnt appreciate me putting it up there.. But yes, he told me her real address... I guess they found her on the computer)
J: 'Yeah...'
'Ok' They say, as they cuff me again, 'Lets go'
Well thank God they at least brought me.
As we are sitting in the awesome cop van that started my whole super-sweet ride, they tell me,
'We're going to the bank, you withdraw the money and then give it to us.'
'No, dude, i dont have any money in any bank, I handle cash only.'
'We go to the bank. You have a credit card and many bank cards.'
'Yeah I have the cards but I dont have any money in them'
'Dont lie to us.'
'DO YOU THINK I WANT TO GO TO PRISON MAN, IM NOT LYING! Lets just go to mein freundin's house!'
So, we drive to the bank, apparently playing by house rules, the whole time with me telling them its not going to work.
We get to the atm.
'Man I have no money in here.'
'Put in the card!'
So I try. Then I try another. then another. Each time I tell them what the outcome will be and each time they tell me to try again, and that its because im apparently typing in the wrong PIN, and blah blah blah...
So, after all the cards were done around 3 times, they say, 'Fine. Youre going to prison.'
'WHAT! You told me youd bring me to my girlfriends house!'
'We are not a taxi.'
'No youre fucking cops who want this charge payed so bring me to my girlfriends house so we can pay it!'
'Does it say Taxi on my back? No it says Polizei. You go to prison now'
So I protest, they repeat more of the same, and I find myself hopelessly driving in the back of this car, thinking about how I just seem to be drowning in shit creek...
After 15 minutes of them telling me I'm going to prison, I notice the surroundings are very familiar.. Huh. It seems the prison is in my neighborhood...
'Wheres your girlfriends house?' Ugly asks
Ah. So I wasnt going to prison. They just wanted to intimidate me and make me feel scared. Well it worked, I felt like pissing myself. big fuckin cops eh?
'Up this street...'
So we reach her apartment, and you know, i think i was almost more scared at this moment than any other. We get to the panel of doorbells in front of the main door, and I ring hers.
'Ok' I say, 'Just a few minutes.' It was around 3 or 4am at this point.
A few SECONDS later Dumb punches the doorbell with his finger about 20 times in a row. A few seconds later, the same thing.
After a while, Yvonnes at the door, and I look at her with fear.
'Yvonne,' I say 'You need to help me out right now, you need to come with us to get 300 francs.'
'GOD JEREMY, WHAT DID YOU DO?! CAN I AT LEAST GO UPSTAIRS TO GET SOME FUCKNIG CLOTHES ON?!?'
'Yes sure baby, of course, go'
She slams the door, and I look at the cops like, man what did you do...
We all get in the car, and Yvonne starts talking to the police officers in Schweizer-Deustch. Apparently as she recalls, she was asking what I had done, and they wouldnt say, they were just saying I was lucky and they think I was doing alot more.
We get to the ATM, she gets out the money, gives it to them, they hand me back my things.
'Ok, we'll drive you back to your home now.' says Dumb, after giving me my ticket.
'No, I dont want a drive,' I say, 'Cmon yvonne...'
I start walking, and yvonne is walking behind me and I can feel her angry stare, and can feel that shes waiting for me to tell her what I did, what car i broke into, or what fight i started...
'Baby,' I say, 'I think something illegal just happened to me...'
At this stage in the night, I am angry, frustrated, upset and completely exhausted, and Yvonne picks up on this right away... I begin to tell her the story as I've just told you, and over the next couple days shes been trying to cheer me up about it... Shes talked to some of her friends and they say this isnt the first time something like this has happened. So what now? Nothing. I'm completely convinced of what these guys would have done to me if I hadnt cooperated, as in what point in the night, when Ugly had me in the interrogation room and pulled out a 5.gram bag of weed and said, 'What else do you think we'll find on you eh?'. I just looked to shorty and said, 'Man, what the fuck you know thats not mine!'
'I know' He said, 'Theyre just joking with you'
But at that point I realized, I guess even when youve dont nothing wrong, a determined cop can find something youve done wrong.
So I'll leave it alone, and just am completely thankful that this didnt affect my trip to Canada...
Anyways.
