Not long after the controversial Foreword Incident, I hit (as they say about addicts) rock bottom. I was reading too much. I wasn’t sleeping. I was barely eating. I succumbed to the usual temptations to numb the pain. But they also say you haven’t made it until your mug shot hits the street. So along with celebrities like Jim Morrison, Anthony Anderson, and Patrick Stump, I guess I’ve made it. But at what cost? In an effort to heal myself and help others, I am publishing the crime scene report of my recent arrest (with accompanying mug shot—certain identifying information redacted) for the public to read. To anyone who was still deciding about whether to be one of my fans or not, please forgive me.
XXXXXXXX XXXX Police Department
1707 Columbia Rd XXXXX
CRIME SCENE REPORT
CASE NUMBER: 2013-03-03-3444234-4-0-4342-66-77
INCIDENT TYPE: Disturbing the Peace
INCIDENT LOCATION: 823 Blk 34th and K XXXXX
On 3/3/2013 at approximately 0314 hours, I responded to a call on the corner of 34th and K. When I arrived, a hot dog vendor pulled me aside and pointed out the person the complaint was being made against. The hot dog vendor told me the subject, identified as Sean Brijbasi, was a regular customer on Friday and Saturday mornings after the nearby bar Fabia closed, usually around 0400 hours. Further, he stated that Brijbasi always ordered two chili dogs to go. While I was speaking with the hot dog vendor, Brijbasi—who was seated on the curb—started yelling at people crossing the street. He yelled “Kiss my ass you monkey fuckers! Poetry is dead!” He then turned to me and yelled “A is for ableberry! B is for burble!” I told Brijbasi to stop yelling. He lowered his voice and asked me if I wanted one of his chili dogs. I declined. It was obvious to me that Brijbasi was inebriated.
An adult female who introduced herself to me while I was trying to calm Brijbasi told me that before the officers arrived Brijbasi had stood on top of a car—a light blue Toronado—and recited poetry so loudly that patrons sitting at the bar’s outside patio complained. Several left. Although one patron apparently made a request for something that rhymed. The female stated that she was a bartender at Fabia. Brijbasi then threw his chili dog at the female and told her to stop lying and that he had always tipped her well. He said “don’t you remember the snowball fight?” The female told me that Brijbasi usually tipped well but that tonight was an exception. She said that he wasn’t “acting normally” all night. I asked her what she meant by that and she told me that Brijbasi usually sat by himself at the bar without speaking to anyone but that tonight he was talking to her and laughing. I asked if he was laughing at her or with her and she stated she wasn’t sure. She said Brijbasi then told her about a book deal he had just signed for 3 figures which made it even stranger about his poor tipping that night. Brijbasi then yelled out “the dictionary of coincidences you numb nuts!”.
I examined the blue Toronado and saw dents on the hood. I asked Brijbasi if he had stood on the car. He told me yes but that he had been invited to stand on the car by the owner. I asked him to point out the owner to me but he told me that the owner had taken a cab home. Brijbasi then took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. I asked for permission to read it. He nodded. I unfolded the paper and saw a poem written on it. It was titled “fraught”. I asked him if he wrote the poem and he said yes. I read the poem. I told Brijbasi that his poem was beautiful but that he should pay closer attention to his line breaks. I asked him if he had more like it. He said his book “the dictionary of coincidences, volume i (hi)” was really a book of poetry masquerading as a dictionary. I congratulated him on his book deal but he stated that he had lied to the bartender. I tried to console him by telling him that his poem reminded me of Stevens. He said he didn’t like comparisons and asked me if I preferred Stevens or Williams. I said Williams. He became agitated by this and began cursing at both the female bartender and the hot dog vendor. I asked him why he preferred Stevens and he responded “fuck you bronze!” at which point I handcuffed him. He then began screaming “Night rider! Night rider!”. I asked the female bartender how much he had to drink that night. She told me he doesn’t drink. He just sits at the bar by himself reading. Brijbasi told me that I could keep the poem as a souvenir. I thanked him, arrested him for disturbing the peace, and drove him to the station without incident. No further information is available at this time.
Accompanying Mug Shot
Booking Number: ∞
Arrestee: Sean Brijbasi