The Result of The One Phone Call.

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This topic contains 2 replies, has 3 voices, and was last updated by EG  EG 4 minutes ago.

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    So, what’s it like being arrested for something you haven’t done?

    First of all, you don’t see it coming. You really don’t. You have no idea. You’ve done nothing wrong, so being arrested for something you haven’t done doesn’t even enter your mind, right?

    It’s just another day in a crap marriage. You get up, grab some breakfast, tidy around and see your wife off to work. She actually kisses you goodbye but, you know, it’s that usual lack lustre kiss, a duty thing, a habit, she doesn’t even meet your eyes.

    She’s now not even on the premises. You’re in your house alone. There’s no argument. There’s No fight.

    She’s AT WORK.

    You’re in the yard about to take a break from grass cutting when you hear the car roar up, looking down the drive you see three cops approaching you fast.

    Immediately you think there’s some problem somewhere and they’ve come to ask for help or if you saw something. Until that is you hear “Are you Mr Matrix”

    “Um, er, yes why?”

    Then you’re grabbed, read your rights,

    Um, I think you have the wrong guy?

    No we don’t we can discuss this down at the station!

    I’m desperate for the toilet and say so. They won’t let me. I say again I really, really need to use the toilet I was about to go when you arrived.

    Then this officer will accompany you. I had to use my own toilet in my own house with an officer standing watching me. Nice huh?

    I’m led away, and told to get in the back of the cop car. Why do they feel the need to push your head down as you get in? I have been getting in and out of cars by myself for over 40 years?

    I’m basically clued in by them that apparently I’m guilty (yes guilty) of some kind of assault on my wife. Wow, that’s news to me?

    I start asking questions.

    I’m off work today, luckily.

    I asked if I had been at my place of work today, I work with a lot of people. Would you have come to my work and arrested me off the premises in front of all my colleagues, for something I’m not guilty of?

    Yes Sir, we would.

    I said that’s just terrible!

    Please stop speaking Sir.

    So, there we go. I’m now arrested.

    I’m guilty apparently.

    And if I’d been in work there would have been a nice little drama as I’m carted off my work premises in front of everyone I’ve known and worked with for years. Nice eh?

    We arrive at the station and it’s the long drawn out ordeal of being ‘processed’.

    First, my shoes and belt are removed. My pockets are emptied. My wallet is emptied and the contents put in a plastic bag. My phone is taken. I’m then led to a cell. I’m told to go inside. I do.

    BANG. That’s it. I’m locked up.

    The good little hard working beta is now in JAIL, his purposed served while an absolute kunt laughs with the hive about how she removed me from my own house, my home and my life of more than 20 years.

    I’m in a freezing cold small cell. It has a stone bench, no padding, and a stainless steel toilet. The window is high up. It has bars. I sit there, dazed and shocked for what seems an eternity. Probably an hour.

    Eventually, the door opens. I’m led out to a processing area. I’m finger printed. Every single finger. Both hands. Even my thumbs are rolled in the ink and pressed onto scanners.
    Then I’m photographed, holding a number in front of me.

    This s.hit is unbelievable to me.

    I’ve done nothing wrong but feel like a rapist or murderer or something.

    Then, I’m told to open my mouth. They take swabs of my saliva from both sides of my mouth. DNA I guess.

    After all this, I’m led back to my cell for another freezing cold spell. After an hour, I’m literally shaking. Some shock, some fear and genuinely very cold. It seems surreal, like a bad dream.

    This red pill was quite shocking to my system. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life. So to find myself in this new reality was just like Neo being woken up in the fluid tank in the Matrix.

    The shock of it all,

    coming out of some kind of dream reality into this shocking new, cold and very stark reality.

    A couple of hours later, I’m taken away again to an interview room.

    I’m basically read the list, yes the LIST of charges against me.

    From attempted strangulation to punching her in the face. To make her fear for her very life.

    That I’ve been this way the whole marriage.

    I’m like, what the f.uck non of that happened?

    She can’t have any injuries because it didn’t happen. Your wife says it did happen though Sir.

    Um, but it didn’t. I haven’t done anything.

    Your wife says you’re a danger to her and her daughter.

    Um, wait a minute, that’s my daughter too. Why is it always THEIR daughter?

    Your wife says you had marriage problems Sir, did that make you angry Sir? Is that why you hit her Sir? I keep telling you I never touched her. Interview over. I’m lead back to my cell.

    I lie there and literally freeze for the rest of the day while someone, somewhere is deciding my fate that day.

    I tell you guys, never f.ucking again!

    Until you’ve been through this s.hit, you can’t imagine how it makes you feel and the agonisingly slow minutes and hours sitting in a freezing cold cell.

    All because a c.unt made a phone call and lied.

    After about another two hours I bang on the door and ask for a blanket. One will be with you shortly Sir. The blanket never arrives.

    Around 6pm the door opens and some horrible luke warm stodgy ready meal is left for me. I take two bites and nearly vomit.

    Eventually, having been allowed ONE phone call to my brother, I’m allowed out the cell and told I’ve been CHARGED with serious assault,

    seriously? even though one never took place and even though there’s NO EVIDENCE.

    Yes, Sir, but your wife says you hit her. Good enough for us. And apparently good enough for the justice system that’s about to destroy me.

    I’m told at the desk, the full charges. I’m told I’m not allowed back near my house. If I do, I go to prison until the criminal trial at least SIX MONTHS away.

    I’m told no communication whatsoever to my wife or daughter by any means or electronic means or by any agent. SO, can’t even stick a lawyer on her,

    sewn up like a kipper.

    But, but, my daughter will be wondering where I am and she already has text me asking if I’m alright.

    If you answer that Sir I will have to arrest you. What, again?

    My brother leads me out into the cool night air. I have the clothes I’m standing up in, my phone and a wallet with $10 in it.

    I now have to camp at his place temporarily until I can find somewhere to live. The police would have kept me in prison if he hadn’t offered to put me up.

    As I walk trembling towards his car, I have a feeling of foreboding, of terrible gut wrenching pain. My insides are in knots.

    I’m now officially homeless, I’ve lost my home of 20 years. The penalty of going to my home I’ve built up and worked on and paid for is JAIL.

    BUT but but there’s NO EVIDENCE.

    And this, was just DAY ONE of my upcoming HELL and ruination.

    For the love of God,

    don’t, just DON’T.

    CPT Obvious
    CPT Obvious

    Phucking brutal. While I didn’t go to jail, my ex tried something similar a couple months after I moved out, making vague claims about DV and getting a restraining order.

    I was shocked at how easy it is to make a false claim and have the full weight of judicial system come crashing down on you.

    Could not go near my house or children for 6 months till the hearing. (Order was quickly quashed, there was no truth or proof to it).

    Had to turn in my guns to the police. Even after the order was quashed they wouldn’t return them. Cops said they had to do their own background check and it would take a month. After a month called back and they claimed to have never said a month.

    Finally had my lawyer call and threaten legal action. A couple weeks later I got them back.

    On and on. Guilt presumed even after court ruled I was not.

    "You don't know a woman till you have met her in divorce court."

    This is what would be known as a “d!ck move” if perpetrated by a guy. Very underhanded and slimy. Sleazy, even. Definitely low-class.

    And because of this site and the other MGTOW paraphernalia I’ve come across through the years, I knew what was happening when my sister had an outburst at my place while over to visit. My only shock was that she thought it appropriate to pull this sh!t with me, her only sibling, and completely out of nowhere. It was all a joke to her, a reaction I’d earned because I p~~~ed her off with some opinions on Facebook. I’d instigated the hive over in the town where she lives with my thank-God-I’m-gay rantings and, apparently, my sharing of MGTOW memes. I see in hindsight it was all a trap, her visit to my place. She’d let out a hint earlier that evening that she had a bone to pick over Facebook. So at the end of the night when she successfully orchestrated an outburst and tried to get the neighbors involved, my mind immediately came to this website and to stories I’d heard and read, all going the same way. No bitch, you don’t get a second chance to ever do that again.

    So now my mom’s on my case about blocking my sister’s phone number and going no-contact with her. She’s of the opinion that there are “two sides to every story”. Um, okay. So at this point I don’t even want to know what the hive is abuzz with, but I’m pretty sure it’s abuzz and mom is part of it.

    This sort of thing would have bothered me a lot more at 27 than at 47. I have no more room in my life for girl problems. A night in jail over an orchestrated “fight” would have taught me a lesson for sure. But I’m good at de-escalation and I’m quite cunning. And THANK GOD I’M GAY. This s~~~ certainly happens in our world as well, but the pretense of female innocence is simply not there in a situation containing no females. <== and that last bit right there is the piece that transcends gay, MGTOW, and all other alphabet soup letters that represent this mode of peaceful living.

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