Just put down the bike and step away

Shit got real last night. They arrested Tom and I was right next to him practically and I have no idea what happened or what he did or why they took him away. I was drunk when it happened; we were all drunk when it happened: one minute we are milling outside the emptying club and the next a bike cop is on the ground and the bike's wheel is spinning in that poignant and important way that upended bicycle wheels do and all I can do is emphasize with the singular and intense focus of an intoxicated person. That man fell off his bike. That is the worst thing that can happen to a man on a bike. I should help him, he probably needs help.

I go to help the fallen cop, I pick his bike up but he doesn't seem interested at all even a little bit in my help. His attention is over there where those other cops have someone pinned down on the road. Another cop approaches me, cautiously, tells me to put the bike down, to go home, to walk away.

My inebriated logic can piece together the narrative: the cop sees a drunk man holding police property at the scene of a crime. I'm struck by the terrible injustice: No don't you see I am a brother cyclist I am trying to help. I keep my mouth shut I put the bike down I walk away I appreciate the situation.

I also realize, I think I was last to this realization, that's Tom under that pile of fluorescent officers. Don't resist stop resisting. That's what the cops are yelling and what I'm thinking. Be as the reeds in the wind, bend but do not break. There are lots of cops now, they are quick. Paddy wagons and mounted units. The horses clear paths easily. They're telling everyone to clear out, go home, nothing to see. We can't of course, that's our Tom, does that even register with the police?

I suddenly feel useless. Useless and drunk. I need my inhibitions, now is not the time for sociability. I can not deal with the world when I am like this. I do not like being drunk outdoors. I am exposed and vulnerable and reek of rum. Please let this night end.