Fresh off the max, Burger King in hand, just walking to my house when I see what must be three blocks lit up with police strobes. Someone's been up to some shit, clearly. And then the first cop stops me, takes my ID, telling me I fit the description. After verifying that I am not the rapist murderer ding dong ditcher he lets me go. Another block down, and a second cop stops me. A similar interaction occurs. This cop lets me go, another block down, one block from my house, and yet a third cop stops me. He yells at me to halt, asks what am I doing, who was I with...what's in the bag. Dude? What's it smell like? And hey-see that walkie talkie strapped to your belt? How about you use it to check in with the line of gun wielding cops I just walked passed to see if they might have already spoken to me. Portland police, you truly deserve the absolute shit bag reputation that you have. Whatever this guy did that got you out in my area in the first place, I hope sticking fresh pinched turds in your tail pipes was at least one of the charges.
The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.