“Hands Down, Hands Up”
Guest Writer: R. L. Norman
As I sat in the back of the car waiting, I was blinded by all the flashing lights. Vehicles were slowing down as they passed by, with the drivers trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. With all the people who were trying to get a look at me, you would have thought I was a movie star!
I will admit that the scene did look like something out of a movie–as I sat there with my head down, trying not to show my face.
I was nervous as I waited for what seemed like an eternity. And who wouldn’t be nervous as they sat handcuffed in the back of a police car like I was?
You see, in a split-second, my life was turned upside down.
An hour ago, everything was fine! I was at a bar hanging out with some friends. We were having a great time laughing, joking, meeting and greeting.
During the evening, the bartender approached and placed a drink in front of me. He motioned across to a handsome gentleman.
I picked up the free drink, looked towards him, and nodded, “Thank you.”
He smiled back! And within minutes, he was sitting next to me–hypnotizing me with his dark brown eyes.
We talked for a while as I tried to envision him naked. I tried to picture him and me in our “birthday suits,” rolling around the bed exploring each other’s bodies–and feeding our sexual desires! As he was staring into my eyes, he was taking over my mind. That’s how intrigued I was.
At one point, I was so worked up that the bulge rising in the front of my pants was becoming obvious. So, I excused myself. I told him I’d be right back as I made my way to the restroom.
When I returned, my new friend had bought me another drink.
After a while, my friends came up to me, saying they were ready to leave.
Of course, my new friend wanted me to stay. However, I declined: mainly because I’d had my three-drink limit. One thing I never, ever do is drink and drive. I know my limit and when to go straight home. That’s what I intended to do.
After exchanging phone numbers, he was rather persistent in wanting to walk me to my car. I figured that he wanted to place his sweet lips on mine and kiss me goodnight. But my friends intervened, and we all walked out together.
And the last thing I remembered was getting into my car! After that, the next thing I knew was that the police were knocking on my driver’s side window, asking me to get out of the car.
I was so dazed and confused that I didn’t know where I was! As I got out of the car, I noticed the one in front of mine. It was obvious that I’d hit this vehicle because there was damage to both cars.
I stood with my hands up as the cop kept asking me for my license and registration.
“OMG, what did I do? I hope I didn’t hurt anyone.” Those were the thoughts ringing in my head as I struggled to remember what had transpired.
After I told the cop several times that I didn’t know what had happened, he told me to put my hands down as he handcuffed me. Then, he put me in the back of the police car.
As I sat there looking at all the chaos that was happening around me, I tried to recall the events of the evening. The police assumed that I was a drunk driver that crashed into another car.
Luckily, my case turned out well. First of all, thank God no one was hurt! But my precious mini-cooper did have serious front-end damage. After the police investigated, they realized that I was not driving drunk– but instead had been drugged. You see, the man I met at the bar spiked my drink. He was a con artist who tried to walk me to my car and have me pass out so that he could rob me–and then steal my car. Thankfully, the police caught him.
But during this entire ordeal, I was not scared of the cops. The police treated me well. I did not feel threatened. They did not harass me or overexert their power. They were simply doing their job.
That happened thirty years ago, in 1986. During those days, we were not afraid of the police. And the police were not openly afraid of us as black men.
But now, in the year 2016, times have changed. It seems like every day we hear about another senseless killing of a black man by a white cop. It seems like every day we hear about a white cop pulling over a black driver–who ends up dead.
It’s funny how times seem to come full circle. Back in the day, black slaves were afraid of their white masters. They would try their best not to cause any problems, in fear of being hurt or even killed by their masters.
It seems like that is what is happening now. We, as black men, have to be afraid of the white police officer. We are in fear that we will wind up on that long list of black men being murdered by the law. And, we fear that the police have a “shoot to kill” attitude instead of shoot to wound. As well, there’s that fear that we are being executed to slowly diminish the black population.
Just like the black slaves were afraid to be killed by their masters, we are afraid that we will be murdered by the very ones who are supposed to protect and serve us. And afraid that slowly it will be us against them–a test of survival.
However, all cops are not bad. But unfortunately these days, we can’t tell who is good or bad. We have to be careful because it appears that if we make the slightest movement while in the presence of an officer, it will result in the “stamp of approval” to murder us.
So, it seems that we are going back to the days of slavery where we as black men have to fear the so-called master–now the police.
These days, hands down we have to be afraid of the police–with our hands up. God help us all.
R. L. Norman is a writer, performer and author of the popular series of novels entitled, “Honey Let Me Tell You.” The latest installment entitled, “Honey Hush; Don’t Ask I Won’t Tell,” is now available in e-book format. As well, he performs“Norman’s One Night Stand,” a one-man show he conceived and wrote, showcasing the main character of his series. R. L.also is writing a play based on “Honey Let Me Tell You.” And his Podcast, “Honey Let Me Tell You Something Else,debuted January 1 on itunes. All of these endeavors are part of his production company, Honey Let Me Tell You. You may reach R. L. at his on line home, www.rlnorman1.wix.com/