I was once arrested and in jail for 12 hours. I saw a big machine opposite my cell. I asked the guards (standing opposite my cell) what that machine did. They

I was once arrested and in jail for 12 hours. I saw a big machine opposite my cell. I asked the guards (standing opposite my cell) what that machine did. They light up with excitement that someone showed interested in and could have a coherent conversation. They spent all night explaining to me and showing to me all the cool technology in the system. That big machine -- apparently for electronic fingerprints to take them and transmit them to some national database but it never worked, they kept on mocking the NYC police dept for adding layers and layers of technology and bureaucratic forms and none of it worked, including that machine. We ended up having an all-night conversation, we got along great. I asked the guards all these things I always wanted to ask policemen but never had the chance to: have you ever bee in a chase (yes, once, on the BQE!). What is the pay like? (Horrible, so they all have second jobs; he also worked at Radio Shack! But they all want to get jobs on Long Island, where the police pay is awesome!). It was a very fascinating and enlightening conversation. 12 hours later, when I was released, the policemen I spent the night talking to, offered to drive me back to my apt. He did and when he dropped me off, he got out of the car and shook my hand. Bizarre experience. Conclusion: I think the police treated me well because I treated them with respect, and I showed in them. (And because I'm white and dress well. When I went to the court for the court date a few weeks later... I was the only white person in the entire courthouse, excluding the lawyers and judges. No exaggeration. The judge ended up throwing out my case before the trial even started.)