Atlanta

Carlos was waiting in line. There was no one else in line, but there was also no one working behind the bulletproof glass. He read the writing overhead in big blue letters. Atlanta City Detention Center. How the fuck did his night end up here? It was 2 am on January 2nd. Happy fucking New Year. Fucking clubs, the worst. Still, it was Cam's fault, there's no denying that. What was he thinking? An older black lady came from the side and took a seat behind the bulletproof glass at a desk. Carlos walked up to her station.

"Hi, I'm here to bail out my friend," said Carlos.
"What's his name?" asked the older black lady.
"Cameron Johnson." She started typing into her computer.
"Oh, found him. Okay, his bail is set at $1700." 1700! What the actual fuck?
"1700?"
"Yes, 1700." Whatever, Carlos knew he had to pay it.
"Do you take credit card?"
"No, it's cash only."
"Who has 1700 in cash?"
"There's an ATM right there," she said pointing to his left. "We also take checks."
"Sorry, I forgot my checkbook at home today."
"Well, the ATM is right there."
"My bank won't let me take out more than 500 per day from those ATMs." What kind of fucked up psychotic system was this!
"Oh well, you can then go talk to a bail bondsman."
"What's that?"
"They pay the bail for you, they take credit."
"What? That exists?"
"Yes, it exists."
"Where can I find these bail bondsmen?"
"There a bunch of them across the street, they should be open."
"Okay, thank you." Carlos stepped away from the desk and walked out of the building.

It all started the night before. Carlos and Cam decided that they were going to go out. This wasn't much of a surprise, they had gone out every night that week. Carlos was visiting Cam. There wasn't much else to do in Atlanta but go out. Besides, they were both young and single, going out was what they were supposed to do. It was the first day of a new year, which tends to bring added excitement. Every night for the past week they picked a new neighborhood in Atlanta and went out there. Tonight, they decided they would stay close to home, so they went out in Midtown. They went to a sports bar to start out the night. The drinks started flowing and the crowd in the sports bar was very friendly. Needless to say, they both thought this was the start of another great night out.

"Hello?" asked Carlos. There was no one at the bail bonds place.
"One sec!" said a voice from another room. It was a woman.
"Okay." A minute later a middle-aged black woman walked into the room. She seemed tired, almost as if she had been sleeping.
"How can I help you?" asked the lady.
"Hey, I need to bail out my friend."
"What's his name?"
"Cameron Johnson." She started typing his name into her computer.
"Assaulting a police officer? That's serious shit."
"Tell me about it."
"What happened?"
"It's been a long night, can you bail him out or not?"
"Yeah, we can. It's going to be $400, and you get $150 back if the case goes to trial and you're friend is deemed innocent." What kind of system was this? Carlos knew he was being played, he just didn't know how.
"400?"
"Yeah 400, we take credit."
"Okay." Carlos gave her his credit card. She ran it and printed out a receipt.
"Okay, take this receipt to the desk and they will let him out," she said as she handed him the receipt.
"Thank you." Carlos turned around and started to leave.
"Your friend is lucky to be alive you know. Assaulting a police officer can get you killed around here."
"I know." Carlos left.

They should have stayed at the sports bar. What is it about the next place that always makes it seem like Shangri-La? They were having such a good time at the sports bar. They were meeting people, and they were having great conversations, why did they decide to go to Opera? They hadn't been to Opera since they were in college. Carlos and Cam both went to college in Atlanta, that's where they met. To be fair, they had fond memories of Opera, but that was a long time ago. Last time they went with a large group of friends, this time it was just the two of them. When they got there initially, the crowd seemed light. The inside hadn't changed at all, still a huge dance floor with Greek pillars on each side. The DJ booth was on a stage. The building used to be an Opera house, hence the name. They got VIP wristbands and were escorted to the second floor. They got drinks. Cam started talking to a woman. Carlos tried his shot at a few women but they shut him down immediately. Didn't they know he was from New York? Atlanta is kind of like Brooklyn, all arrogance, very little substance.

"What was the name again?" asked the older black lady. Carlos was back at the bulletproof desk.
"Cameron Johnson," said Carlos. Cameron fucking Johnson.
"Ah yes. You talked to the bail bondsmen?"
"Yeah, here." He slid the receipt through a break in the glass.
"Thank you." She took the receipt and started typing it into her computer. "Okay, take a seat, your friend is still going through the system. He will be out in a bit."

Carlos was standing on a balcony looking down at the dance floor. The club was starting to fill up. He figured it was time to go down there and see if he could work some magic. Cam was still talking to the woman he met when they initially got there. Carlos went down to the dance floor and started dancing. The music was good. The music was usually very good in Atlanta. Say what you will about Atlanta, but they have music figured out. He tried asking a few girls to dance but was met with more rejection. This was definitely not his night. He had hit on a lot of women in Atlanta the past week and it usually went just like this. Rejection after rejection. He didn't mind, meeting people is a numbers game. Still, if he wanted infinite rejections he could have just gone to Brooklyn, he didn't have to fly 1500 miles. As a matter of fact, the only women that gave him the time of day on the trip were women that were tourists in Atlanta. Maybe Atlanta was the problem, not him? Carlos had had enough of Atlanta, and he returned up to the VIP section. Cam was standing there by himself. Apparently, talks had broken down with the woman.

"Hey, do you know how long it takes for someone to go through the system?" asked Carlos to a police officer that was sitting down behind a wooden desk. He was the only other person in the large hall.
"It can take a few hours. It depends on what condition the person is in," replied the police officer.
"What do you mean what condition?"
"Well, if they have injuries or not."
"My friend doesn't have injuries."
"Well, then he should be out shortly."
"It's been 30 minutes. It's getting quite late."
"Don't worry, you're friend will be out soon."
"Okay, well I don't know how to not worry right now."
"Where are you from?"
"Me? New York?"
"Where initially?"
"Oh, from all over. We moved around a lot as a kid. My dad is Indian, and my mom is Spanish."
"Oh, have you been to India?"
"Yeah, been there a lot as a kid."
"What did you think of it?"
"Ehh, it's a different place. A lot of poor people. Very underdeveloped."
"You know why that is right?"
"Corruption?"
"It's because they don't believe in Jesus." Of course. Yup, that's the reason.
"What?"
"If they were Christian their circumstances would be better."
"So I should expect my friend back soon right?"
"Yes, shortly."
"Okay, I'm going to go back to my seat now." Fucking Atlanta.

Cam wanted to do a lap, and Carlos obliged. The upstairs level was a large circle that overlooked the dancefloor. There was a bar on each side and they were connected by two narrow corridors. Cam and Carlos walked through one of the corridors. There were small rooms along them that looked down at the dancefloor. These must have been the box suites back when this place was an opera house. They went to the bar on the other side. It was mostly empty. They walked back through the other corridor. Cam saw the girl he had been talking to in one of the box suites. She was accompanied by another man. He started talking to her anyway. Why on Earth was he doing that? Carlos noticed that a bouncer was right behind him. This couldn't be good.

"Yo, I think we should get out of here," said Carlos, pulling Cam's arm.
"One sec," replied Cam. He continued to talk to the woman. Maybe he missed the 350-pound man behind them.
"Dude, now." He tugged on Cam's arm a bit harder.
"Okay, okay," said Cam as he turned around. He saw the bouncer behind them.

The two of them quickly made their way back to the VIP bar. The bouncer was following them. What the actual fuck? Yup, time to call it a night. The two of them went down the steps and proceeded out of the nightclub. The bouncer followed them the whole way.

"What the fuck was that?" asked Carlos once they were outside.
"I don't really know, I guess I hit on the wrong woman," replied Cam. He started searching through his things. "Fuck! I left my card."
"What? In the VIP area?"
"Yeah."
"I think we should just leave it, man. They do not want us in there."
"I'm going to get my card back." Cam went back inside. Carlos followed.

They should have left that fucking card. Cam proceeded up the steps back to the VIP section. There was a bouncer right behind him. Carlos followed them. He did not have a good feeling about this. Cam got to the bar and tried to close out his tab. The bartender would not give his card back.

"Dude, give me my card back," said Cam with an aggressive tone.
"I'm helping other customers sir, and you are clearly drunk. You need to get out of here," replied the bartender. Fuck this unprofessional ass bartender.
"Just give me my fucking card back and I'll leave," said Cam.
"Just leave, we don't want you here."
"What the fuck? Dude, give me my card back!"

The bouncer watched all this. A scene was starting to develop. Carlos noticed and looked behind him. The bouncer was joined by 7 of his best friends. All big dudes, easily over 300 lbs. Oh boy. They all looked on as Cam tried to get his card back. Cam took out his phone and turned on the camera.

"I am here in Opera and am simply trying to close out my tab. And this unprofessional bartender won't give me my card back," said Cam into his phone. He pointed the phone at the bartender.
"Fine!" yelled the bartender. He turned around and printed Cam's bill and threw the bill and the credit card in Cam's face. Cam's credit card fell on the floor. Carlos picked up the credit card and handed it to Cam.
"You see that!" said Cam into his phone. "So fucking unprofessional. For that, he gets no tip!" Cam signed the receipt and threw it back toward the bartender.
"Of course! Kick this fucking guy out!" said the bartender.

The bouncers did not like this. By now they had surrounded Cam and Carlos. After the episode with the bartender, the two of them tried to leave the way they came but the bouncers would not let them. They started pushing Cam to a different exit.

"Don't fucking touch me!" said Cam getting in the face of the bouncer. His camera was still running.

They opened the emergency exit door. Carlos could see the outside. They were taking Cam down a set of stairs that led to a back alley. Anything could happen out there. Carlos didn't know what to do. One of the bouncers hit the phone out of Cam's phone on the steps outside. Another stomped on it. The phone fell through the metal steps to the ground. Cam was infuriated. He lunged at the bouncer. Carlos tried to stop him but he couldn't get between the 7 bouncers and Cam. A bouncer put Cam in a chokehold and started taking him down the steps. A few steps down, he let go of Cam and pushed him down the steps.

"Where are you taking him!" yelled Carlos.

A bouncer told Carlos he had to go around the front. Carlos sprinted down the nightclub steps and out of the club. The worst thoughts ran through his head. The bouncers would take him to a dark alley and beat the shit out of him. Cam would be lucky to make it out alive. The worst part was there was nothing Carlos could do about it. He felt helpless. He was going to watch his best friend die right in front of him. He went to the right as soon as he got out of the club. There was a metal fence, he saw Cam on the other side. There was a police car with an officer standing next to it, talking to Cam. Thank God! If there wasn't a police officer there the goons could have done whatever they wanted with Cam. Things seemed to have calmed down. Carlos exhaled.

"I just want my fucking phone," said Cam to the police officer.
"Just calm down sir. I'm going to let you go. Just calm down," replied the police officer.
"Don't tell me to calm down. Those fuckers disrespected me and they broke my phone! I will not calm down!"
"Sir, you need to be calm. Just tell me what happened."
"I just fucking told you, they broke my phone and they have it. I want it back." Cam had tears in his eyes.
"Calm down sir," said the officer as he put his hand on Cam's shoulder.
"Don't fucking touch me!" yelled Cam as he shoved the police officer.

All these scenes were replaying in Carlos's mind as he sat there waiting for Cam to be released. What was Cam thinking? Putting his hands on a police officer. What happened from that point on is exactly what should have happened. Carlos looked on as the officer wrestled Cam to the ground, put handcuffs on him, put him in the back of his cruiser, and drove off. Carlos had never seen anyone get arrested before, the whole process was a lot calmer than he anticipated. At least Cam was alive. That's all that really mattered. You can deal with almost anything if you're alive, not so much if you're dead. Carlos closed his eyes, what a fucking day. Fucking Atlanta.

Carlos heard a buzz. One of the metal doors clicked open and out walked Cam.

"So platinum or bronze?" asked Cam.
"Huh?" replied Carlos.
"The best friend in the world statue, you want it in platinum or bronze?"
"Gold, solid gold."
"Done." They hugged.

Carlos called an Uber. Cam couldn't, because he never did get his phone back. It was 4am. They were both exhausted. They went back to Cam's apartment and went to sleep. In the morning they were famished. They got in Cam's car and drove to Taco Bell, their favorite. They hadn't talked much since the night before. They went through the drive-through and ate their food in the parking lot.

"You know he was going to let you go, right? This all could have been avoided," said Carlos.
"What?" asked Cam.
"The police officer. He was going to let you go."
"Really?"
"Yeah. What happened to you? Why'd you do all that?"
"I'm just so sick of all this shit. All these bullies. Those bouncers don't have a life. All they do is wait for some small black kid to come around so they can pick on him. 8 of them, one of me. I'm sick of it. And that bartender. The fucking lack of respect. How am I supposed to let all that slide man?"
"Who gives a fuck? They don't matter, you do."
"I'm done tolerating all that nonsense."
"What, you're going to keep on going to jail?" Cam was silent. "Your 25 years old and you've been to jail what, three times? Like do you think that's normal? Do you think that's okay? I get it, you're a black man in the South. The cards are stacked against you. I empathize. But it does not excuse this behavior. Not every black man in the South is getting arrested three times before 25. I was there to bail you out last night, but who knows if I'll be around next time. And how many times am I supposed to bail you out? Once? Twice? Any more than that and it's a pattern. At some point, the people in your life will stop bailing you out. You don't want to get to that point bro, you don't."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?"
"Deescalate. Don't get into it with these fools. They have nothing to lose, you do. They are miserable, you are not. Suffer fools gladly. Don't let them get to you. Next time, just remain cool and get out of dodge. There is no need to escalate those kinds of situations. The officer was going to let you go! But no, you felt the need to push him. Push a police officer? Like in what world is that a smart move?"
"I know. I know."
"You have a lot going for you. You're smart, you have a good family, and you're hard-working. Like, you have all these things going for you and it just seems you want to throw it all away. And the thing is, we can't stop you! We, the people that love you, that want the best for you, can't stop you from ruining your life. And at some point, we're going to stop bailing you out. At some point, you're going to run out of second chances."
"I know." Cam had tears streaming down his face.

They finished their meal and started driving towards the mall. Cam had to buy a new phone.