Goodness gracious, there are so many things that can be embarrassing that listing all of them would be impossible. Instead I’ll take you for a trip down memory lane with me.
Back when I was in highschool, after my stint of running away from home, I had found myself sitting on Third ST across from a record store which was next to a coffee shop. I had been sitting on a bench there, minding my own business, thinking about how I was going to “arrive” back home, and worried about how my mom would react. While listening to my music, two people I’d always thought I was close to came out of no where from behind me. I stood when they stopped in front of me, taking out my headphones and greeted them with a smile and a hug each. Little to my knowledge, one of them slipped a knife on my person while hugging me.
After having slipped the knife into one of my pockets of the large army coat I was wearing, the she who’d planted the knife went into the coffee shop and disappeared. I conversed with the other who stood there with me, chit chatting about this and that and expressing my fears about going back home. He told me that everything would be fine, and though my mom would be upset, she’d be so happy to see me safe and sound. Shortly after we were talking, he went inside the coffee shop and I resumed listening to my music. Not even a minute after he went inside, he came running out trying to warn me, but I was oblivious because I had my headphones in and reading something in my hands.
Low and behold, a minute after I looked up, there were two police officers approaching me who immediately demanded I stand. Apparently I took too long to stand up, considering I’d walked from Lafayette to McMinnville and all the way to Third ST, and one grabbed me, threw me onto the ground and proceeded to roughly pat me down. Shortly after being searched, they produced the knife that had been put into my pocket and then cuffed me right there in the street. I was then shoved on my way through the coffee shop and behind it to the cop shop where I was “booked” as they call it, and put into a room for processing. They then called my mother, who said she would be on her way. The next thing I knew, I was in a taxi on my way home.
For me, the whole experience was a giant embarrassment. Not only did I get fooled by someone I’d thought was my friend, but I was brutalized by a police officer in public and dragged through a coffee shop that I’d frequented prior to my run away.