I was heading here at 2:30 am for breakfast. I see a woman in the middle of the street a half block away screaming "Help me, please!" A car stops and they talk. As I walk past, the woman points at me and says, "That's him! He's the one!" The person in the car is holding a cell phone and staring at me. I think, "Oh, shit," but keep walking. Seconds later two police cars arrive and I hear "Freeze! Get on the ground!" I drop to my knees and raise my hands. The cops cuff me, frisk me, and put me in the squad. We drive back to where the woman was, and both rear doors fly open. Two cops start yelling at me simultaneously: "What did you do to this hooker? She says you assaulted her! Don't fucking lie!" I tell them I have never seen the woman before, but they don't believe me at first. They keep yelling "When was the last time you were arrested?" "On March 20 at the antiwar protests," I say. After running my name through the computer a cop tells me to get out of the car. "Tonight is your lucky night," he says. He uncuffs me and tells me to beat it. The moral of the story is this: if a cop tells you that this is your lucky night after he has cuffed you, frisked you, detained you, falsely accused you, and berated you, he's lying.
--Daniel Romero, activist