Ethnic Avenue – The Street That Crosses All the Others

Posts Tagged ‘Crime’

The Backstory

A few years ago, I had this millionaire, born-again Christian, asshole boss that was so consistently racist (like actually so), that he distorted my uncanny ability to detect racism for several years. He looked like a torn-up version of Lou Dobbs—if you can believe that.

He would say things out of the blue like, “You know, I hired you despite your accent.” Now, I’ll tell you that in subsequent polling, about 80 percent of people say I have no discernable accent. Another, 15 percent or so tell me I have a medley of American city accents. The other 5 percent is this guy. So, when he told me he hired me despite my accent, I figured that was code for, “I hired you despite your being brown,” a semi-obvious fact I appreciated.

It’s nice when people can overlook your flaws.

Over time, I developed a type of Stockholm Syndrome for the guy and our unhealthy relationship blossomed. We’d go to fancy, tax-deducted lunches together to plot out ways to make him even more money. He’d pay every time, and I came to know what a cheap-lunch-whore, entertaining a middle-aged Republican in exchange for the most expensive thing on the menu, must feel like.

Somewhere along the way, the guy got deluded into thinking he was a genius. And to prove his brilliance, he would bait me into conversations about politics. He’d repeat everything he’d heard on Fox News the night before, and I–like the idiot I was at the time–would try disprove him with reason, punctuated with arcane political theory and historical evidence. Definitely not recommended.

In a conversation about racial injustice in our criminal justice system, I pointed out to him that the jails were disproportionately filled with ethnic people.

He came back with, “Well, you’re the ones committing all the crimes.”

He should have been offensive, but he seemed pretty harmless at the time. Besides, the lunches were good.

Why I Told You All of That

Now fast forward to yesterday. I’m reading the news and I run into this story, where a twelve-year-old girl from New York got arrested, and taken away in handcuffs, for doodling on her desk.

Twelve-year-old Alexa Gonzalez scribbled “Lex was here 2/1/10″ on her desk Monday at Junior High School 190 in Queens. She also wrote “I love my friends Abby and Faith.”

The girl says the doodles could have been erased.

I immediately remembered my old boss and thought, you know what, that asshole was right. Lock the little bitch up. We are the ones committing all the crimes.

I’m no lawyer, but I could have sworn there was a difference between committing a crime outright, and being lured into committing one.

Despite that, law enforcement agencies all over the country have instituted the practice of using “bait cars” to fight rampant car theft.

The idea is simple. Cops modify a nice car—usually an Escalade or other ghetto-irresistible ride—with monitoring devices (cameras) and tracking technology (Lo-Jack). Then they sweeten the deal even more by loading the car up with nice shit, like an iPod and some Luther Vandross CDs. Sometimes, they even leave the keys in the ignition. After that’s done, they drop it off in an area where lots of cars are stolen. And wait.

Needless to say, these are the ingredients for some hilarious ghetto antics. In fact, there’s an entire television show devoted to playing footage of people trying to explain themselves to police before being hauled off to jail. You hear shit like, “I was just moving it out of the way so I could get my car out,” or “this is actually my cousin’s car. He knows all about this.” Of course, they don’t realize we’ve all been watching (and hearing them) steal the car all along. I’ve enjoyed more than a few laughs at these poor idiots’ expense.

But I nearly shat my pants (not in a good way) when, during a routine evening out, I spotted this sign in a parking garage here in LA:

Say what? This shit is real? The bait car instantly went from a playing-in-the-background-type-of-show to some real shit in my life. I mean, however unlikely, I could have conceivably been seduced by the bait, and ended up on the very show whose actors I ridicule. I was shocked and pissed.

Look, I’m all for fighting crime, especially crime that puts my insanely in-demand car in any kind of danger. But, what’s next? Where will it end? A bait twenty bucks falling out of a douchebag’s acid-wash-jeans pocket?  A bait just-underage girl? A bait set of answers to the test?

I say that if cops can bait us into committing crimes, we can bait them into thinking they’re fighting crime.

“Oh, sorry Mr. Officer, I didn’t really snatch her purse. Laugh out loud. See, this is Julie, my friend. And we’re just rehearsing for our hipster wannabe-legitimate-theatre play. And, by the way, we were also taping the whole thing. You’re going to be on TV!”