"That's the kind of stuff that happens in totalitarian countries."

Today at 5 AM my wallet was searched by police against my will for the second time in my life.

Before I begin this story I want to preface it by stating that when I lived near Beverly Hills and walked through that town police pulled up alongside me monthly. Literally monthly. They usually exited their cars then asked a series of boring, intrusive questions to me as I barely tolerated their presence. I usually walked away as they were in the middle of their questioning (after 15+ minutes) because I wanted to continue my exercise. Once I even called over my shoulder, "if you guys have a crime that you're going to falsely arrest me for, go ahead and I'll sue the shit out of you." During another time an officer demanded my i.d.; I walked away as I yelled, "We're not under nazi occupation!"
Eventually when they drove alongside me I just smiled and waved at them (without looking) because I tired of their bullshit. You might think that this behavior is comedic or stupid, but I always got away with it because they knew they had nothing.

.....Please also bare in mind that I am pasty white, which is why black comics' claims about police discrimination are utterly ridiculous to me personally. The pigs are equal opportunity abusers.

Now I live in Burbank. I walk/jog along Magnolia Boulevard on a 5-mile route through North Hollywood and Studio City. As I walked my usual route today a pig pulled alongside me. For whatever reason I REALLY wasn't in the mood for that shit this morning.
So I just sort of smiled and waved at the car as he barked something at me (I blare rock music through headphones) then continued on my way. Eventually he ran to me with a flashlight in my face.

I stopped then removed the headphones.
"What?"
"What are you doing out here?"
"I don't know (restraining every urge I had to say, "what do you think I'm doing, dipshit?"). Walking."
"Do you have any i.d. on you? Let me see i.d."

As I stated previously I really, really hate this request. I'm almost certain that it's against the law to just randomly request identification from someone who has not committed a crime or isn't operating a vehicle or whatever.
I kind of avoided eye contact with him during the first few moments of this incident. Now I made sure to glower directly at his face for most of the duration of it.

"Wait. Why the fuck do you want to see i.d.? Did I commit a crime? What did I do?"
"I don't know. (swear to god) DID you commit a crime? What did you do?"
"I haven't done a thing. This is my regular walking route."
"Well, let me see your i.d."
(I lied.) "I don't carry a wallet when I'm out at this hour. I don't want to get mugged."
"I don't believe you."
"Cool. Don't care. May I leave now?"
"Sit over there." He pointed at the curb.
I laughed as I sat down.
He asked for my name, then he wrote it on a pad of paper. He asked me why I just waved at him and continued to walk. I told him about the harassment that I experienced in Burbank. Then I tried to convince the moron that I was just an innocent person who wanted to get exercise.
After a while he said, "Look, man... What is your REAL name? 'Gowdy' isn't fooling anyone."
I looked directly at him then asked, "Are you fucking around with me? Gowdy is an ancient Scotch-Irish name. That's my REAL name."
Later during the conversation he said, "you're interrupting me again."
I responded, "No, you interrupt me. Actually, that's how this whole fucking thing began. YOU interrupted ME. I just want to do my daily activities without interruption. What is this about? You really have nothing better to do with your time, do you?"
"We're looking for a guy who beat his girlfriend then fled somewhere around this area."
"Well, I don't have a girlfriend. Haven't had one in ten years."
I realized almost immediately he had dragged out this nonsense for at least ten minutes before he actually informed me about WHY he was doing it. At around this point he picked up his CB (or whatever) then spoke in a hushed tone to nearby units. I made out a few sentences:
"Yeah, Magnolia near Pass Avenue. He might be the guy. He's acting pretty improperly."
We continued to converse until a fucking FLEET of cop cars pulled up to the scene. Six additional officers surrounded me. To my surprise, I wasn't even slightly nervous-- partly because I had dealt with this type of situation before (also for doing absolutely nothing, and I detailed it on this blog) and partly because I see the kick that the pigs get out of scaring you. I refuse to be nervous in their presence.
They searched my pockets and shirt for weapons as I sat on the curb.
One of the officers said, "You may stand now."
I stood. A few of them were a few feet behind me. The guy who looked the oldest and was probably the sheriff asked the original officer, "What's his name?"
"Michael Gowdy."
"Isn't that the name of the suspect?"
"No, I believe that his name is 'Matthew G- something."
Someone called out, "Matthew Gaurnier" (or something). It sounded French.
The sheriff stood a couple of feet behind me and to left as he asked me questions. I don't even remember what he asked me. At one point during the questioning I remember that I turned slightly to my left (this will come into play later).*
Someone behind me said, "put your hands behind your back and lace your fingers." Suddenly I felt a bit of fear for the first time, but I wasn't going to let the dogs detect it. I put on an even braver front as a guy who-- honest to god-- looked like Gomer Pyle's clone stood a few feet in front of me and explained, "Michael, you are currently being detained because we suspect that you are blah blah blah who did blah blah blah to blah blah blah then was last seen at blah blah blah."
I looked Gomer Pyle dead in the face then said, "I'm NOT the guy who you're searching for. This is a HUGE FUCKING WASTE of EVERYONE'S time."
"We'll decide that."
Meanwhile the sheriff had "liberated" me of my wallet and was searching through my photos, discount cards and credit cards.
"You have photo i.d. in here, right?" he asked.
"Yeah. If I had the use of my right hand (which an idiot was holding behind my back along with my left hand) I could show it to you RIGHT NOW."
*"After the manner in which you turned around when I was talking to you? Not a chance."
I started to realize as this drama played out that the idiots all thought that they could gauge my true nature by the slightest behaviors based on whatever dime store psychology courses they took at the police academy-- and they were all guessing wrong. A rookie pig who was standing behind me was the worst of the lot. His assumptions about me will come into play later.
After a while the sheriff found my driver's license. He looked slightly surprised as he read my name. I said, "Wooooooowwwww. Would ya look at that? Ain't that aaaamaaaazzing? That's ME. ME!" I was more than ready to get the hell away from these people, and I wasn't going to spare him the shame of being such a wrongheaded moron throughout this incident.
He tucked the wallet back in my pocket.
"I'M NOT DONE WITH HIM YET," he called over his shoulder as he moved toward his car. I restrained my laughter because I knew immediately that the game was over and he was making a last-ditch effort to intimidate me.
At length, the rookie cop to whom I referred earlier walked up to me, put his hand in my pocket then fished out my wallet again. He asked Gomer Pyle (honest to god) "What's this-- a SECOND wallet?"
Gomer shook his head almost sadly: "No. That's the same wallet."
Then the rookie dug into my other pocket. He pulled out my car keys. The idiot just didn't want to give up.
Him: "You have a car? Where is it?"
Me (wanting to punch this stupid kid): "Burbank."
"Where in Burbank. What's your address?"
"It's in Burbank where I live."
"Where you liveD?" He turned to Gomer, "Did you hear that? Where he LIVED?"
Gomer shook his head sadly again as I said, "No... Where I live currently."
Eventually the original pig who started this whole ass-rape of privacy appeared before me. I don't remember precisely what he said, but I remember that he actually looked somber and sounded apologetic.
I, in a moment of extreme weakness, said, "I'm sorry (I immediately regretted this word as it left my mouth) but I thought that you were harassing me-- I had no idea that you were looking for a suspect. In the future, you should let someone know why you need to see i.d. before you just randomly approach them and demand it from them. That's the kind of stuff that happens in totalitarian countries-- not the so-called 'land of the free' or whatever bullshit this nation likes to pride itself on."

Then I walked away from that scene of dead silence (and, I hope, shame).

The irony that it all occurred one day after the eleventh anniversary of the attack by the people who "hate our freedoms" (utter crap) wasn't lost on me.