That Time I Got a Misdemeanor While Traveling

You know those movies where you see folks get in trouble while they’re traveling?  Think Brokedown Palace and Taken.  Whether I like it or not, these movies are always on my mind, so I try not to make some of the stupid mistakes the characters in those movies make.  Up until this point, I’ve been going strong.  On December 29, however, my luck changed. 

En route to the wonderful city of New Orleans, I headed to the BWI Airport for my direct flight to MSY on Southwest.  Buckets of snow were falling the entire time we were headed up, so I began to worry if we’d even leave.  Alex and I split up at the ticket counter for some reason, so I went ahead to the security line thinking I’d just meet him after.  Shoes off, laptop out, coat and scarves in the box.  “Ma’am, we’re gonna need you to step over here please with you bag.”  “Sure!  No problem” I say thinking that I most certainly forgot some nail polish in my bag.  Imagine my surprise when the police officer pulls out a small black box.  One I don’t recognize…for about five seconds.  “Oh no” I think to myself.  The officer pulls the taser out of its little black case and pushes the button.  Turns out that my mad dash to the airport and the subsequent grab of a bag out of Alex’s closet – any bag, just pick one – held a sweet little gem.  The current of electricity snaps and crackles it’s way into stardom as six uniformed officials walk over to me.  At this point, I just let the officer know that he can confiscate it, no problem, as 1) I didn’t even know it was there and 2) it was used when I tutored in Anacostia, a job I no longer have.  I’m still smiling at this point and relatively apologetic.  My smile is wiped away when the nice cop pulls me aside and explains that I shouldn’t panic, but I need to go ahead and contact my lawyer.  “Contact my lawyer?  Why?  Why would I have a lawyer on speed dial?”  “Ma’am, most people have their lawyers on speed dial.”  “We’re giving you a felony weapons charge, one that will hopefully get dismissed when you explain the situation to the judge.”  Like a volcano, boom, waterworks.  At this point, I’m about twenty minutes into the inquisition and thinking about Alex.  He’s probably panicking since he cannot find me at the departure gate.  Ten minutes later he walks up to the mob of policemen surrounding me and sees me, read face and tears rolling down.  Humiliating is most certainly an understatement, as most of the security line can see what’s happening.  You might ask yourself, can things possibly get worse?  Turns out yes, yes they can.  “What’s your address?” “I just got off a plane from New Zealand and I’m in transition.  I don’t have one.”  “Why are you flying on a one way ticket?” “Because I’m going to New Orleans for New Year’s and then driving back to Arkansas with friends.”  “Where is your driver’s license?” “It was lost in New Zealand.” “What is your cell phone number?” “I haven’t hooked one up yet as I’m just recently back in the states.”  Oh yes.  I just got labeled.  These gentlemen had a field day.  About 45 minutes later, I had a yellow ticket in hand.  Turns out it was written as a misdemeanor instead of a felony – the good cop said he did me a favor.  The charge, “interfering with security procedures.”  “Your lawyer will know what that charge means ma’am.”  No, no he actually never quite figured that out, but that’s just an aside. 

How does a 25 year old with a squeaky clean record go about finding her very own criminal lawyer, especially in a city she has never spent time in – Baltimore?  Turns out the process isn’t fun, so I think I have a bit more insight into why people who get into trouble stay in trouble.  The clerks are unhelpful, the officers gruff, and everyone sort of hates you all the time.  Things take forever to process, and you are pretty much left without a prayer.  Fortunately, a friend knew someone who knew someone, so I was set up with a fantastic criminal lawyer in the Baltimore area.  He had been practicing for 30 years and has a law degree from Harvard.  Yep, he’s my guy.  How much do criminal lawyers bill?  $625 an hour it turns out.  On the eve of an already frugal 5 month trip, I was devastated and am still figuring out ways to pay this bill.  I’ve sold a handful of very nice things (goodbye Kate Spade, DVF, and Tori Burch) on Ebay as well, so I’m almost there!  This mostly makes me wonder, why the hell am I not a lawyer?  Well, a lawyer from my lawyer’s time who already has that much experience under his belt.  I’m not exactly sure I’d want to be a lawyer to day, but that’s an aside.

So the legal saga has continued for two full months.  Dozens of phone calls, meetings to find the right lawyer, paperwork, pleading, the whole thing.  Finally, on February 22, I get an email from my lawyer letting me know that the case has been dismissed and expunged.  It’s a pre trip departure miracle!!!  I can get my NZ Visa renewed for year 2 of grad school, and I can stop worrying so much about whether or not I’m going to jail for 90 days.  Thank goodness.  Thanks to all of those out there who kept me in mind, it was so so appreciated. 

So let this be a lesson to you – check your purse.  Even if you’re always super careful – check again.  It really is a nightmare.