University of Virginia Library

The Cops

Then we met the cops. They had
us empty our pockets, they frisked
us, and then they proceeded to run
their fingers through our long loose
locks, looking I suppose for hidden
weapons.

Everything we put on the
table they wrote down and put into
an envelope for which we're given a
receipt. We were then moved into a
smaller room, ordered to strip to our
underwear and socks and given
Tulsa County Beige for our own
splendid threads (U.S. Army rejects)

Spending another hour in the
visiting cell on broken chairs, we're
finally taken out, shown some dirty
mattresses from which to choose our
bed, given a course liner and a
dusty blanket and taken down to
"A" tank eighth floor-The
Penthouse.

At the beginning of our three
day visit in the Tulsa County Jail
we were too shocked to be entirely
coherent. We'd taken a Drive-a-way
car from Chicago and were in the
process of driving along Route 66
to deliver the car in Los Angeles
when the friendly local FBI officer
pulled us over.

"Where's your draft card," says
he.

I gave him my drivers license,
after all, when one is stopped for a
traffic violation (the car had no
tags, but a legitimate 30 day
temporary registration in Illinois)
one is usually asked for drivers
license.