Think Thrice

Of all the translation services given thus far (Not that it is my profession but it's a thing if you could speak the local language plus the others), there's one I still think about until now.

One random afternoon, received call, went to the police station. Not the usual report room but the interrogation room. In front of 2 officers, a big macho white dude sitting there. Introduced myself to him, heard he breathed a sigh of relief, I thought I could help.

Dude had too much drink, hit the police, accused them and there was weapon involved according to him. With the complicated formalities and repetitive questions, the sun has set. Thought it wasn't serious. The guy asked if he could go back to the hotel to pick up his stuff, or to contact his agent and that he has a flight to catch that night.

Case hasn't settled, I went home for a bite whilst waiting for another call from the officer. Call received, went there, entered a room full of prostitutes. He was there filling up forms, looked at me helplessly, I really really wish I could do something but remained cold.

The next day when I see him, he's already transferred to the main police station, that kind of place where you hear shackles, people marching around and everyone grows a poker face. The guy is now in an orange inmate jumpsuit and handcuffed. After a few health related questions he asked me when can he go home, but all I could do is to read him his crimes ordinance, that Mr. so and so, because of xxx, you are detained under which section etc., and of course with a long fixed look from the cell officers.

I don't know what the court says, how much he has to pay or how long is the jail term or would he be banned from entering the mainland again, 1 week before Christmas and just because of that 5 drinks and mainly his ignorant act, it costs a life long stigma.

Gotta be a responsible YOLO-er peeps!