A Pick Up Move That Sent Me To Jail
Finding and meeting a pretty woman is risky enough; I didn’t know it could include jail time.
Note to Post Falls Police Department: If you read this I hope you have a sense of humor. If you don’t please understand that I have learned my lesson. I know you were doing your job and there is nothing personal. “Just business.”
I was doing some business at a UPS store and a SUV pulls up. In comes this stunning woman who could easily be on the front cover of any magazine. She was just a beautiful work of art. I finished my business and walked by without staring at her. She probably has to deal with that all the time.
I admit it. Sometimes I don’t think things through all the way when my hormones start raging. In fact, there is not one brain cell in my testosterone. So being the typical single male in heat, I couldn’t let this little mermaid just swim away. I had to throw out a hook or something. You never know, she may bite on it. So I decided to write a little note on the back of my service plumbing business card. You know, in case she wanted some plumbing repair. I wrote on the card that she was very pretty and I hoped to meet her sometime. That was it. I stuck it on her windshield of her SUV. Then I got into my mini van and left.
A couple of weeks later I get this knock on my door at probably 2:00 in the morning. I was a single dad living alone in an apartment. I had my 9-year-old son with me that night because I just got back from my dad’s funeral and wanted him to be with me. I get up in my pajamas and bare feet to answer the door. It’s two cops on my front porch! I’m still half asleep; I just thought they were looking for someone. So I opened the door.
ME: “Hi. What’s going on?”
COP: “Is your name Phil Pellerin?”
ME: “Yes”
Cop: “Can you step outside please?”
ME: “Sure.” So I stepped outside. I figured they needed my help to find someone. “What can I do for you?”
COP: “Can you turn around please?”
ME: “Umm….Okay.” When I turned around one of them put my arms behind my back and slapped some cold Post Falls cuffs on my wrists.
COP: “We have a warrant for your arrest.”
ME: “WHAT the HELL is going on?” Now I was wide-awake.
COP: “You failed to appear for a court date so a warrant was issued.”
ME: “What court date?”
COP: “You were to appear in court on parking in a handicapped zone.”
ME: “That was months ago! I forgot about the court date, but I paid the ticket that afternoon. They didn’t say anything about a warrant for my arrest.”
COP: “Well you can take it up with the judge tomorrow.”
ME: “Guys. Can’t we just settle this in the morning? This is NOT the way to handle it.”
COP: “No. This is EXACTLY the way we handle it.”
ME: “I can’t believe this. My son is in there sleeping and I DO NOT want him to see me in cuffs. He’s in there by himself.”
COP: “You can call someone to pick him up.”
ME: “Oh, my God. You guys. Can I at least get my shoes on? Please.”
COP: “Grab them quickly and get out here.”
So I slipped into my untied work boots and they escorted me into a cop car waiting outside. I am pretty freaked out about this. I have never been in trouble like this before and it was definitely weird. Hundreds of things go through your mind in minutes when you are cuffed in the back of a police car, sitting on a plastic seat, and feeling like a caged animal. The main priority was to get my son back to his mom’s house. His mother lived a half hour away. We were able to arrange a pick up for Jacob. So my new cop friends and I waited in the car for someone to get him.
ME: “This sucks. I can’t believe I am going to jail for a damn parking ticket!”
COP: “Let me ask you something? “Is this your card?” The cop pulls out the same business card that I put on the windshield of that cover girl lady. “Did you put this on a woman’s SUV a couple of weeks ago?”
ME: “Uhh..” Thinking. “Yes.”
COP: “That was a cops wife. We can’t be too careful about stuff like that. You understand. Right?”
ME: “Oh. Wow. That was a cops wife?”
COP: “Right.”
After someone came to pick up my son, the Post Falls best gives me a free ride to the county jail. I am booked, finger printed, stripped, and jailed. The next morning I have a video hearing and the judge places a $2,500 bail on me. I could pay it and get out or plead innocent. If I pleaded innocent I would have to wait a couple of weeks for another hearing with a public defender. I didn’t have $2,500. I didn’t have any active credit cards. I didn’t know anyone who had $2,500 dollars. I didn’t want to call my family about this right after my dad died. It would be awful. I had no idea what to do to get out of this mess. The jail only allowed collect calls. Everyone I knew had cell phones and besides I didn’t have their numbers. So I figured I would just rot in jail for a parking ticket and leaving a business card on a windshield.
My hair started growing, my beard was getting rough. I was thinking about getting a tattoo. Maybe get one of a wheel chair with a big X over it. Yeah, it was 5 days of doing some hard time. I noticed that most of the guys who came in there got out pretty much the same day. They just pleaded guilty to whatever they were charged with and posted thousands of dollars in bail. They would promise anything to get out of there. I could hear them yelling on the phone at exes or parents or whoever to post bail for them. I thought, ‘what a bunch of wimps.’ But what a business!
Then there were the frequent fliers and jailhouse regulars. They didn’t like it there either but they knew the drill. There were convicted felons, drug smugglers, and guys waiting to go to prison. In jail the guys earned respect by how much of a bad ass they were. Whoever did the most crime and time earned the highest rank. Of coarse, I just stayed quiet and kept to myself…till I died in there. Finally, one of these high-risk prisoners was curious about me. I was sitting at the table eating some jailhouse jello with my plastic spoon/fork.
Inmate: “Hey.”
Me: “Hey.”
Inmate: “What are you in for?”
Me: “Parking in a handicapped space.”
Inmate: “You’re in here for a parking ticket? That doesn’t make sense. What the hell did you do?”
Me: “Well, I also hit on a cops wife.”
Inmate: “Hmm, well that makes sense. I feel sorry for you man. What’s your bail?”
Me: “$2,500.”
Inmate: “$2,500! “What the hell are you doing here? Just post the damn bail. All you need is 10% and you can get out of here. Can’t you get $250?”
Me: I didn’t want this high-ranking bad ass knowing that I had no clue about the 10%. So I had to think fast. “Yeah, I got it. It’s safer in here. I have a lot of enemies on the outside.”
Inmate: “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He gave me the inmate bump and walked off.
I got in touch with my brother in California and told him I was in jail. (He has learned to try and stay calm when I call) I asked him if he could come up with $250 to get me out of jail. I’m glad he didn’t ask too many questions. He said he could do that and he saved me from a lifetime in prison. What a great brother. I got out and owed a lot of community service for the rest.
Love Life Lessons:
1. Always watch for wedding rings.
2. If she is even friends with a cop get the hell out of there.
3. Don’t place business cards on windshields no matter how hot she is.
4. Don’t park in handicapped spaces.
5. All you need is 10% of the bail.
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One Response to “A Pick Up Move That Sent Me To Jail”
With money on the line, the bail agent has a financial interest in supervising bailees, and ensuring that they appear in court each end every time the court orders them to appear.