After doing an interview with CBC on Sunday morning outside the detention centre, they came up behind me, grabbing each of my arms while they said “you’re under arrest!” They took the wooden bowls I had brought, asking “are these your bowls?” to which I gave no response. They placed me in the car and drove around to the back of the detention centre. Media yelled at me, asking for my name, which I provided. Apparently people were asking the police why I was being arrested, and they told them “it’s none of your business”
I was told I was under arrest for “conspiracy” which I found funny. ‘They have fuckall on me’ I thought.
They kept on asking for my name, which I kept on giving in full. I can only assume they were wanting me to end up refusing to freely give information required by law, which would then be on tape since there was a camera in the back of the car.
In my mind I kept a mantra – Say nothing. Say nothing.
They saw my tattoo on my arm and asked me if the lawyer number was also a tattoo (wtf?!) “No; it’s permanent marker” “Why would you do that?” “Incase this happened!” The whole situation seemed unreal; like something you would see on a prime-time cop drama that unintentionally ends up like a comedy. They asked me for my lawyers name. I didn’t answer. The officer stood there for a while, and I appreciated the airflow coming from the open door. Eventually she shut it, leaving me alone.
I preformed a medication. If I couldn’t have an Ohm circle outside the jail, I was going to attempt to calm myself in the back of the cruiser. At one point I closed my eyes, and when I opened them the first thing I saw was the sign at the rear of the studio I was parked behind. Studio 8. A wave of positive emotion rushed over me. It was a sign that everything was going to be okay!
The officers returned and started driving towards a gate. One of them said “I have to pee!” in a voice that sounded juvenile. She got out, returning shortly later. I can only infer that this was a tactic to make me feel uncomfortable, but I was too dehydrated to need to urinate.
At one point one of them leaned into the other and whispered, yet loud enough for me to hear “She smells!” I could not help myself from chuckling (Weapon of mass distraction! Smell bomb!!)
They asked me if I was okay. Feeling like it was another trap I didn’t say anything. “We’re concerned since you have health problems” she explained. Thinking for something to say that would not give them any information that could be used against me – like saying ‘I’m okay’ which could have been turned into ‘Well, she said she was okay, so we did….’ I said “I could use some water” immediately realizing the gravity of what came out of my mouth, seeing as the detention centre loomed behind me.
The car exited the detention centre. I started to wonder ‘Where are they taking me? Is the detention centre full?’ Then I realized we were near Cherry ‘Are they gonna dump me in the lake? At least the cold water would be refreshing!’
The car started driving up streets I had never seen before. I started keeping a mental track of the direction we were going. ‘east, north, east, east, east, south’ We drove up and down random side streets, many with multiple speed bumps. Eventually the car stopped outside a small house [I can provide the nearest cross streets if necessary, and I have transfers from the bus and subway I took to get back downtown] and I got concerned. ‘Is this a secret CSIS processing house? Fuck; piss filled Dixie cups are better than this!’ But they took off my handcuffs and let me off with a verbal court order – apparently they did not need to give me any paper version, which was fine with me since it meant they were spouting bullshit.
I walked up the street, fists in air, and I saw a cat! My mind went back to the night before, and I knew it was a sign. For me at least, everything was fine.