Chicago

I've been arrested once in my life.

I had been living in Chicago for six months. It was our last week in the city, so my roommate and I decided to do some last-time bombing.

Around midnight, we filled our bags with all the spray-paint left in our apartment, took some shots of Vodka, then headed out.

We wanted to hit a place that we had never been. A place where a lot of people could see our names. A place where ritzy assholes would see our tags and get offended. A place like Lincoln Park.

Lincoln Park is a place near downtown Chicago. Rich folk. High-rise apartments and all that jazz.

The bus dropped us off and we started walking. We walked for a while before we chose a spot to paint. It's always good to check out the area. Find the places you can run or hide if necessary.

We did two spots. Both in allies, on two different bar/grills. My roommate wrote Slice and I wrote DMDT (DaMien DuerTe) on both walls.

I wasn't satisfied though. I mean, we both did very decent pieces. Slice had his typical melting-fire art, and I did my typical techy style. I didn't like where we did them though. Not enough people would see them. Sure, some people walking on the streets maybe, (I did make the first "D" on the second painting curve around to the front of the building) but it wasn't enough.

We walked down two blocks from the second location, and I saw it. A bright yellow billboard for a long-distance phone company. The whole bottom half of the sign was basically blank- just waiting for someone to paint it.

"There!" I said, and pointed it the sign's direction.

Slice squinted his eyes to look up at it. "Pfft, yeah..."

He thought I was joking. It was a pretty obvious location. But by now it was almost 4:00am, so there weren't any people around, and we had only seen one cop drive by the entire night. So I went for it.

Slice stayed on the street as a look-out, while I climbed up the cold metal latter to the narrow platform in front of the billboard.

I was scared to death. I could barely write because I was shaking so hard. My fingers were also dead tired from holding the trigger down on the spray-cans all night (I left the auto-gun back home).

Slice was to whistle when he saw anyone on the street or any cars.

I had just started the outline of the first "D" when I heard the whistle.

I hit the platform as quick as I could. Slice started walking down the street like he was on a walk.

I laid there. Freezing and trembling for two minutes until I heard Slice yell, "clear."

Apparently it was just a car passing by. I jumped up and started painting quicker than before.

I heard the whistle four times during the rest of the painting. Three different cars and a drunken couple stumbling down the sidewalk. I laid and waited for the "clear" each time.

I was finishing the shading on the "T's" shadow. Just in time as the sun was starting to peak over the horizon. I was almost done, when I heard a whistle. A different, trembling whistle, followed by the sound of Slice running down the street to my right.

Oh fuck.

I didn't even try and fall to the platform. I just looked to my left where I saw three police officers running in my direction.

In my memory, this is all happening in slow-motion.

One of the cops yelled something and pointed at me.

I dropped the black spray-can and rubbed my eyes as I bent onto my knees.

Two of the officers stopped at the base of the billboard’s latter, while the third ran after Slice.

"Get down here, and don't even think about trying to get away!"

I'm not that stupid -I muttered under my breath.

I got down and they yanked my arms behind my back so they could put on the damned cuffs. Too hard. Chicago cops are assholes.

Apparently, Slice had out-run the other cop, as he bragged about it to me later that week.

So I had to spend more time in Chicago. Community service and such. -That sucked, but it wasn't a horrible deal.

The tag on the billboard only lasted for about a week, but the two on the buildings remained for over a month.

I thought it was funny that for my community service, they had me clean up litter and shit, instead of my graffiti.

Stupid fucks.

 2002-01-10 - 12:51 a.m.

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