As officer Woodhull leads us into the booking room, the first thing we do is sit down one at a time in front of a nurse. She asks us a series of questions regarding allergies, physical condition, and whether we feel suicidal. We’re then led to the famous booking photos area. I’m left standing and waiting for the photos to be taken for a very long time. It dawns on me days later that this is how they get such “disturbing” photos of everyone. They intentionally wait until you’re visibly aggravated with having to wait so long. They then have the disturbing photos they want.

After donating mug shots, we’re placed on a concrete bench next to what can only be described as the “typical Friday night trash.” I’ll leave it up to your own imagination as to what kinds of individuals were being booked with us that night. Suffice it to say that drugs, alcohol, and lack of hygiene were extremely prevalent! As my roommate and I sit down side by side, we have our first opportunity to talk to one another and figure out what had just happened. While the drunk and/or drugged inmates are screaming their heads off, my roommate and I begin quietly discussing the incident and just what was going on. Officer Woodhull, however, wanted no such thing and tells us that there is to be no talking. It’s obvious that he’s flexing his muscles on us, since almost every other inmate in the room is screaming at their respective arresting officers. But for a few minutes, we honor his demand. The booking process, however, takes over an hour! Officer Woodhull was filling out our booking information by himself and was not a master of the computerized booking system. Later in the booking process, my roommate and I once again begin to whisper to one another about the incident to try and piece together what had happened. A short time later, officer Woodhull notices our whispering, flexes his muscles, and yells at us to not say another word.

Shortly before 9pm, we’re led through a mild pat-down search and an x-ray of our socks and shoes. It’s at this point that my roommate and I are separated yet again. I’m led into a holding cell with about ten other individuals, while my roommate is taken off for what he says was voluntary drug testing. According to my roommate, they were training the officers on how to identify drug users and test them for drug use. Instead of being held all night in a holding cells, they were offering food and drinks to those who would volunteer for the testing. Knowing that he hadn’t done any drugs, he agreed to go through the testing.

After being subjected to two rounds of fingerprint documenting, I spent the next four hours in three different holding cells. From the first holding cell, I use the phone to place a collect call to my girlfriend. She was scheduled to meet us that night, so I want to let her know why we’re hours late. Her cell phone won’t accept a collect call, so I dial my parents instead. After seeing “prison inmate cell” come up on caller ID, my dad hesitates, but finally decides to answer the phone. After briefly describing the situation to him, I ask him to contact my girlfriend and give her the news.

Shortly before 1am, my roommate was placed in my holding cell. We were finally free to talk about what had happened! As we began to piece together the situation, he informs me that the officer spoke on his radio about having two riders pulled over and two riders “getting away.” At the time, this was an odd piece of information. But later on, this would make a bit more sense to us.

At 1am, there were about 15 inmates in our cell. We were escorted to a court room to be told by a judge what we were being accused of. After our names were called, we were told that we were each being charged with one count of Reckless Driving (28-693A of the Arizona Revised Statutes).

After our court appearance, my roommate and I spent the remainder of the night and early morning in even more holding cells. At about 5am, we were awoken for final processing. At 6:30am, our final belongings (cell phone, wallet, etc.) were returned to us and we were set free.

As we walk out the door, I’m preparing to call my girlfriend to see if she can pick us up and take us to get our bikes back. But before I can even dial her number, I notice her standing next to her truck directly across the street. Apparently, she stayed up the entire night researching traffic law and checking the automated prison inmate system to find out when we would be released. It was now a full 12 hours after we had been pulled over. Adding insult to injury, it was Saturday, October 9th, which also happens to be my birthday! That’s right. In addition to the 12 hours spent in custody, I spent the first 6.5 hours of my birthday locked up!

But we were free. And now it was time to become part-time lawyers in our spare time, researching for our case and determining just how to fight it.