Not in L.A. but in Norcal. Got off work after midnight (movie theater, closing shift) and rode my bike home as that was my sole mode of transportation at that time. I lived in a not so great part of town because that's what I could afford as a college student getting no financial help because my parents were dead and I worked for minimum wage at a movie theater full time while also going to the Junior College full time.
About a block from my apartment a cop car starts following me, slowing down to make sure he stayed behind me. I get to where my apartment is and crossed the street in front of him (he was still a good 20 feet behind me) so I could go up the walkway to where my front door was, as I had done literally hundreds of times before, and next thing I know the cop is shining his searchlight at me, ordering me to come over to his side of the street.
Annoyed, I asked him why, and he literally screams at the top of his lungs "BECAUSE I SAID SO!" I go over and next thing I know I have my hands on my head and I'm being patted down. When I protested he threatened to arrest me and told me I'd be going to court for disobeying and disrespecting on officer (pretty sure that last one isn't even a thing).
Before I know it, he's joined by two other cop cars that roll up on us, and soon I'm being grilled like I'm in a Gestapo interrogation chamber, with them barking orders at me, wanting to know what I was doing out so late, where was I going, where was I coming from. I answered all their questions truthfully, and whenever I protested their heavy handed tactics, they told me I'd better shut up and stop giving them attitude (lol). Yeah, I was giving them attitude.
They used the excuse that were legally allowed to do what they did because I has crossed the street on my bicycle and gone onto the sidewalk. I told them I did that because this was where I lived, and that's how I got to my front door. I also told him that I was aware he'd been following for some time before that, so I don't think that was really the reason, and even so what gave them the right to pat me down?
They told me that could give me a ticket for what I'd done, but weren't going to because they were just so nice, and that I should be thanking them for being so nice, but I wasn't because I was an ungrateful little punk, and that if I just gave them more respect next time, I wouldn't get yelled at and patted down (ignoring the fact that those were the very first things they did to me). And then they told me to "take off." So I rode my bike back across the street and onto same walkway I had done before, and went into my front door, which was all I had ever wanted to do in the first place.
I'm very grateful for the proliferation of cell phone cameras. Had I had one back then, I most definitely would have whipped it out and started filming these power tripping assholes. Police brutality and abuse of power are nothing new. We just have a weapon to fight back against it now that we didn't have before. And we're more aware of it now as a result. And that's a good thing. I was afraid to ride my bike home for months after that incident. And I wasn't afraid of any of the gangbangers or thugs or drunks that lived in the neighborhood like everyone thought I should be.
I was afraid of the police, the people that were supposed to protect me.
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