A Tale of Jackassery
This is a story set at Christmastime. That does not make it particularly heartwarming. It is really a story of police officers with waaay too much time on their hands. It was December 21st. I think it was a Tuesday, which would have made it 1993. A co-worker and I were closing after a quiet shift at the family bar and grill I worked at from 1988 until 1995. It being 4 days until Christmas, and a Tuesday, it was not surprising that there was not a packed house.
As was typical after completing our closing duties, we were throwing some darts, counting the tips, and generally kicking back and having a conversation. I was enjoying a soda, and my colleague was having a “beverage in question”. Why I call it that will be made clear briefly.
By this time, it was about 2am, and we heard a knock at the door, which startled us to say the least. As I walked toward the door, I saw a man holding up a police badge and identifying himself as an officer. My co-worker was also walking toward the door with his “unknown beverage”. I instructed him to lose the glass he was holding. He then set it down at the end of the bar on the floor. I knew right away that it was indeed a police officer. In fact, it was a plainclothes police officer. He was the local “undercover” officer working the bar beat. Undercover in scare quotes because everyone knew who this guy was.
He then asked for admittance, which by law, I could not deny him. He proceeded to walk in and go straight to the end of the bar to pick up the glass my co-worker had set down. He sniffed it, then threw it out in the sink. He then proceeded to write me a ticket for “open container after hours”. This was a violation in the state of Nebraska, because, as the title of the essay suggests, Western Civilization hangs in the balance of such egregiously antisocial behavior. I got the ticket because I was the manager of the bar, and my co-worker was a part time employee.
Four days before Christmas all this guy had better to do was to hassle two guys alone after work enjoying a conversation between co-workers. It was not as though we were serving customers after the legally designated time. It was not as though we were engaging in nefarious, underworld activity. You could see the light on in the bar from the street, and draw the correct, human conclusion that there is no serious threat to society here. The only threat was to those beholden to a view of law enforcement that rewards the enforcement of picayune rules that have nothing to do with public safety.
Jackassery Loses This One
Once in a great while government Jackassery (sorry for the redundancy) loses. That is, to invert Billy Preston, the good guys win every once in a while. I had to show up in court to deal with the ticket that was delivered to me. The family’s attorney was representing me. The first thing he argued was that the state Liquor Control Act was unconstitutionally vague. Buzz, wrong answer. Then he argued that I should not have received the ticket because it was never in contention that it was my beverage. Buzz wrong answer, as I was fulltime and a manager, and my co-worker was part time. The third argument was one that I first heard from a regular in the bar. He was an attorney who while, let’s just say a very regular customer, was a bright man. We called him the “Ice Man”. He argued that since the police did not test for the alcohol content of the “beverage in question”, and NA beer was not then covered under the Liquor Control Act, that the police had thrown away their evidence.
This was the winning argument. Ironically, in an act of just bad lawyering, the prosecutor never asked me about the “beverage in question”. While I technically did not see my colleague pour his drink, Hell would have frozen over multiple times before he would ever have had an NA beer. I refuse to comment on whether I would have perjured myself if asked the ten-dollar question.
Jackassery Loses Again
After my acquittal on these most heinous charges, I, and the General manager of the bar, a member of the owing family, were summoned before the Liquor Control Commission of the State of Nebraska. This 3-member panel is rather notorious for making life difficult for small businesspeople just trying to make a living. We were called before them to discuss whether we had committed an infraction against the bar’s liquor license. The family attorney told the both of us that if this at all looked like a legal proceeding, then we were to get up, ask for a continuation, and walk.
The proceeding began in an irritating fashion as the snippy legal counsel for the Commission began to pepper us with questions about whether I had opened the door for the officer in a timely manner (as if this would have prevented him from throwing out the evidence). I explained that I had opened the door as soon as I realized it was an officer at the door, and further, if the officer was there, he could testify to this. At this point they asked the officer to come out from behind a curtain and testify. We figured we were being set up, and began to gather our things, and got ready to walk, as instructed.
At this point the calvary came riding over the hill. One of the Commissioners showed himself to be a human being. He stated that he was a timid fellow and would be hesitant to open the door for someone at 2am. Therefore, he instructed the officer to sit down and explain to his satisfaction how he identified himself to bar employees. After jumping through these hoops, the whole thing fizzled out, and any action against the bar was dismissed.
As the meeting broke up, the human being of a Commissioner that had come to our rescue asked me if I was related to two of my brothers. I answered in the affirmative, and he told how he had known them for a long time and had always liked them both.
The takeaway from all this is to know your rights, know the law, admit nothing to the man, until consulted by legal counsel, and push back against picayune stupidity. Oh, and don’t be too prideful to be grateful for the help of a white knight who happens to know some of your siblings. On second thought maybe this is a heartwarming tale after all. I mean is there a better way to celebrate Christmas than by boxing the man’s ears?
Praise Be to God
