I am therefore led directly to cell in a 4x4 Canadian Mounted Police (... finished horses and beautiful red dress ... that that's folklore!). The trip lasts only a few minutes because the buildings of the RCMP (Royal Canadian Police Mounteer) are located near the airport. ... Enter Artist and suspects through small door at the rear of the building.
courteous Home Guards cells. refouillés the body, they ask me to remove my jacket, my belt (in case my ...!), watch my shoes and up my marriage (the first time in 29 years of marriage - rechoc :-( Devoid of any personal item, I am invited to "settle" in cell No. 1, alone with my thoughts . While there, a breath of cockroach guaranteed!
When the armored door closes behind me in a deafening din (... I realized later that there was a quack in the closure ), I find myself face to face with myself in this cell 3x3m. Sinister "studio," the judge little, freshly painted cinder block walls in white, pale white light with a neon well protected 60cm concrete ledge that will serve me a seat and bed covers with 2 thick ripstop fabric, a plastic mattress 5cm thick, which makes the place more "comfortable", a sink coupled to a cuvette Aluminum as a toilet, 6 small panes opaque on top of a wall to see if it is day or night (only way to detect in time) and a beautiful dark blue armored door with a window and a vertical hatch horizontal bottom plate by way passes. On the ceiling, some technical equipment and protected a large grid of ventilation. All in a state of perfect cleanliness. And fortunately it is summer, it seems that winter there is freezing cold ...
So I sit on what will be my seat and bed during those three interminable days and I start to think. I replay the scene indefinitely, this trip to Paris aboard the Boston ... But what I'm doing so so wrong to find myself trapped in this place? ... I come to pinch myself to make sure it's not a bad dream.
I still think about that moment that I should get out of here fast enough (1 or 2 days) and I could go to San Francisco this week ...
And here I am learning to be patient (at least for this test used for something). A guard offered me reading: Salvation (yes, really!), Reader Digest and the Herald (a local magazine). I take these few books and places them next to me on the edge of concrete, I really did not have the heart to read anything ...
After several hours of waiting, a policeman comes I propose to call a lawyer and the Embassy of France. It takes me a little room where there is a telephone on a table, a chair and a camera in the ceiling. The court-appointed lawyer is reassuring: "Your story is not unusual, it happens 3-4 times a year but usually with people drunk. Say that a few days of jail and a $ 500 fine, your case will be filed. "Well, I'd be leaving soon and this seems reasonable." Tomorrow, Sunday, you will participate in a conference call with the judge to you mean that you spend in court Monday. "Ah, so the weekend in jail ... is not that great ... M'enfin, I not only ... All kidding me up a bit morale because I can already see the end of the tunnel ... then
I call the Embassy of France in Montreal but now I come across a guard (yes, we are the weekend) which gives me a Mobile phone number of a consul. This one inquired whether I am treated well (I reassured him on this point) and he confirms that the French authorities may not interfere in internal affairs (thank you ... it very useful to me!).
Back in cells accompanied by my guardian angel ... Back to hell! When I hear that this armored door closes behind me in a hellish din, pffouuh ... Moral to the 3rd basement.
few hours after I try a request to contact my family and my loved ones: given! Yessss! Rebelote in the small room and there I have to write on a sheet of paper every No. I want to dial. So then, when I hear my family, it's pure happiness, emotion bars. I told them what a mess I got myself and asked them not to worry: I'm treated well and I should be out soon.
As I had no phone with me, I was handicapped to remember some No. to call my friends (at home, given the time!) - AC technology is good, but it's really not terrible memory. It's hard to live without our hearing that our agendas are e ... Finally, I manage to alert colleagues and friends of the bureau that my trip to San Francisco is likely to compromise ... Come on, I believe a little! And I
back in my "studio" ... Clack, make the door :-(
Night falls (thank you little opaque tiles) and I decided to try to sleep. I lie on the end "mattresses" and focus on my position in order not to fall this edge. First night in jail (in my life ...) and I do not want to sleep ... my thoughts assail me: but what I do in that galley ?!... Good night!
courteous Home Guards cells. refouillés the body, they ask me to remove my jacket, my belt (in case my ...!), watch my shoes and up my marriage (the first time in 29 years of marriage - rechoc :-( Devoid of any personal item, I am invited to "settle" in cell No. 1, alone with my thoughts . While there, a breath of cockroach guaranteed!
When the armored door closes behind me in a deafening din (... I realized later that there was a quack in the closure ), I find myself face to face with myself in this cell 3x3m. Sinister "studio," the judge little, freshly painted cinder block walls in white, pale white light with a neon well protected 60cm concrete ledge that will serve me a seat and bed covers with 2 thick ripstop fabric, a plastic mattress 5cm thick, which makes the place more "comfortable", a sink coupled to a cuvette Aluminum as a toilet, 6 small panes opaque on top of a wall to see if it is day or night (only way to detect in time) and a beautiful dark blue armored door with a window and a vertical hatch horizontal bottom plate by way passes. On the ceiling, some technical equipment and protected a large grid of ventilation. All in a state of perfect cleanliness. And fortunately it is summer, it seems that winter there is freezing cold ...
So I sit on what will be my seat and bed during those three interminable days and I start to think. I replay the scene indefinitely, this trip to Paris aboard the Boston ... But what I'm doing so so wrong to find myself trapped in this place? ... I come to pinch myself to make sure it's not a bad dream.
I still think about that moment that I should get out of here fast enough (1 or 2 days) and I could go to San Francisco this week ...
And here I am learning to be patient (at least for this test used for something). A guard offered me reading: Salvation (yes, really!), Reader Digest and the Herald (a local magazine). I take these few books and places them next to me on the edge of concrete, I really did not have the heart to read anything ...
After several hours of waiting, a policeman comes I propose to call a lawyer and the Embassy of France. It takes me a little room where there is a telephone on a table, a chair and a camera in the ceiling. The court-appointed lawyer is reassuring: "Your story is not unusual, it happens 3-4 times a year but usually with people drunk. Say that a few days of jail and a $ 500 fine, your case will be filed. "Well, I'd be leaving soon and this seems reasonable." Tomorrow, Sunday, you will participate in a conference call with the judge to you mean that you spend in court Monday. "Ah, so the weekend in jail ... is not that great ... M'enfin, I not only ... All kidding me up a bit morale because I can already see the end of the tunnel ... then
I call the Embassy of France in Montreal but now I come across a guard (yes, we are the weekend) which gives me a Mobile phone number of a consul. This one inquired whether I am treated well (I reassured him on this point) and he confirms that the French authorities may not interfere in internal affairs (thank you ... it very useful to me!).
Back in cells accompanied by my guardian angel ... Back to hell! When I hear that this armored door closes behind me in a hellish din, pffouuh ... Moral to the 3rd basement.
few hours after I try a request to contact my family and my loved ones: given! Yessss! Rebelote in the small room and there I have to write on a sheet of paper every No. I want to dial. So then, when I hear my family, it's pure happiness, emotion bars. I told them what a mess I got myself and asked them not to worry: I'm treated well and I should be out soon.
As I had no phone with me, I was handicapped to remember some No. to call my friends (at home, given the time!) - AC technology is good, but it's really not terrible memory. It's hard to live without our hearing that our agendas are e ... Finally, I manage to alert colleagues and friends of the bureau that my trip to San Francisco is likely to compromise ... Come on, I believe a little! And I
back in my "studio" ... Clack, make the door :-(
Night falls (thank you little opaque tiles) and I decided to try to sleep. I lie on the end "mattresses" and focus on my position in order not to fall this edge. First night in jail (in my life ...) and I do not want to sleep ... my thoughts assail me: but what I do in that galley ?!... Good night!
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