On the way back from the bank, I was pulled over in front of the InterContinental Hotel for having an expired tag. The police officer asked for my keys and for me to get out of the car. Next thing you know, my hands on the hood of the car. I was being arrested! I was handcuffed and informed that I was going to jail.
The officer allowed a call to my manager because I had nearly $4000 cash in my car which I couldn't leave behind.
So let me give you a mental pic: dressed nicely for work,Versace sunglasses on, using my iPhone and handcuffed! Real nice.
My manager rushed over to "the scene of the crime" and got the cash. She also called my mother.
I was escorted, not into a police car, but into a paddywagon! The officer said I'd be in jail all weekend long. At that moment, when he wasn't looking, I manuevered into my right pocket, which was difficult to do in handcuffs, and discreetly pulled out a xanax, placed it on my tongue, and forced swallowed it.
The paddywagon pulls into a large garage and you're taken into a small room where you must remove your shoes and take out all belongings from your pockets. Then you place your hands against the wall and you are patted down thoroughly. Very thoroughly!
I was led into another secured room where my mug shot was taken. No glamour here. You are then weighed, which by the way, your weight is hollered accross the room for everyone to hear. I made my one collect call. That's when I first walked into the holding room and caught a scary glimpse of the other 65 people arrested.
As I sashayed accross the room, trying not to make eye contact with the inmates, all I could think about was that my designer shoes were worth more than their bonds, at least for some of them. I was sure I'd get beat up in my skinny pants and cute shirt. The phone is secured to the wall about 3ft from the floor which forces you to kneel or sit on the floor to make your call. Uncivilized.
You are told to sit in this room with all the other unsavory characters and wait. So you wait, wait, wait and wait. Hours later, a lieutenant came over and asked me to sign a waiver form granting my mother access into my car beacuse it was impounded. Thats when I was first able to see my mom. It was through a glass wall and bars.
Mom burst into tears when she saw me, which in turn, made me cry. She said everything was going to be alright. Mother left but I was forgotten about in the meeting room. When they finally came back to get me, I dried the tears from my eyes. There was no way I was going to walk into a room filled with criminals with tears rolling down my face. That would surely get me beat up or be made someone's bitch, or worse, both!
Everyone in the holding room is seated closely together. I am placed next to a homeless man who looked and smelled like he had never bathed a day in his life. At this point, all I had was time, so I people watched.
A shipment of hookers were brought in around 2pm. This was amusing since they had to remove their wigs and put them in plastic ziplock bag. That was gross.
A homeless guy began to make neck ties out of toilet paper. That got him thrown into solitary confinement. Smart!
There was a lot of bickereing and smart mouthing among the rough trade. I just sat quietly. Never engaged anyone in conversation, nor did I use the bathroom in the whole time that I was there.
4:30 pm - Dinner time!
We were directed to stand against the wall in a single file. This was not a polite or even stern request. This was an order by the warden who yelled profanities to enforce the command.
A bologna sandwich. That's one slice of bologna, sandwiched between two pieces of Wonder White bread. Also, three cookies. I think they were Dollar Store oreos. To wash down all this fine cuisine, you are served watered-down Koolaid.
I really didn't have much of an appetite, so I opened the bag of cookies first. Within seconds, a 6ft +, 270 lb, not so friendly inmate, came towards me. He said, "Give me your fucking sandwich" to which I willingly obliged.
Cell block assignments began at 5pm. I got very nervous because I hadn't heard anything for hours and I was afraid I'd be statying the night.
Thank goodness, about ten minutes into this process, my name is called. As I approached the officer for processing, she took one look at me and said, "child, you're shaking like a leaf." "I thought I was going to have to spend the night," I told her.
After porcessing, which is when you're finger printed, I am informed that mom had paid my bail.
I saw my mother, who "claimed" me after the officer yelled out, "who's here to claim Cameron Snellen." I was ecstatic to finally see daylight again. I will never take freedom for granted.
It was a City of Sandy Springs court error. They didn't process a speeding ticket [which I had paid] in time which led to Sandy Springs suspending my license, unbeknownst to me. They failed to inform me of the suspended license nor did I know of scheduled court dates. Both which I missed.
There was never an apology for their mistake. In fact, the police said this happens all the time!
Cameron spent almost as much time in prison as Paris Hilton and Naomi Campbell. Dressed to impress, minus the attitude.