"So I leave Union Station, get on the Gold Line and am gazing out the window when an LA County Sheriff’s deputy asks me for my ticket. I dig for my Metro Day Pass in the usual chaos of my bag. He barks at me to “keep looking” then says, “give me your driver’s license,” which I do immediately. I find the receipt for the pass that indicated the date and time I bought it. I show it to the deputy, who gestures impatiently for me to follow him off the train. “That’s not good enough; you can show it in court.” I’m not eager to go to court or pay a fine: “Wait, please don’t cite me. I can find the pass; I know I have it.” “You’ll have a much worse day if you don’t get off right now,” he shouts, and I get right off. As I exit, I hear the crackle of a two-way radio. Sheriff’s deputies immediately surround me — brown uniforms loom over me, blocking the view of the 4 p.m. rush of passengers swirling around the station. I start to look for my pass, but a female deputy orders, “Get up, put your hands there.” “What, you are going to search me?” The words fly out before I can think, but I immediately put my arms on the pillar. She searches me, shoving her hands roughly around my body, my breasts, around my waist and down under my underwear. I’ve never been patted down before, other than at the airport, and never this aggressively. Instinctively, I react to her hands jerking around my body, poking and grabbing. “Stop — you’re hurting me,” I cry and pull to the side. Within a second, she bounces my head — SLAM, SLAM, SLAM — against the pillar, simultaneously snapping handcuffs behind my back. I both hear and feel a loud crunch — impact of bone hitting hard surface. For a moment, I genuinely think I’m just having a bad dream."
#WTF with Marc Maron
I wrote about the WTF with Marc Maron podcast for GQ’s comedy issue in July. It ended up as an iPad-only bonus and I’ve had the PDF forever but am just now remembering to share it with you guys. I was so thankful to have the opportunity to write this (what up, master editress Lauren Bans!) and even more so to be able to hand a printout of the piece to Maron in person at his last Bell House gig in Brooklyn. Marc more openly gracious than I had any right to expect.
Hope you dig the piece. Maybe clicking it will make it bigger/more readable? [Edit: No, it won’t. Boo.]
Awesome work from Zach. Read it. Now.
everyone should learn the names of Maron’s cats.