⦿ Jacked Up

I was recently remembering a disturbing and somewhat frightening incident that happened to me  some years ago, when on a quiet Sunday afternoon  I was randomly jacked up by the police.
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I was enroute home from selling at the flea market and stopped at a local thrift store to drop some things off as a donation, but also peruse their open, unsecured dumpster, which always had a treasure or two.  The thrift store had no objections to people removing things from their dumpster.
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Suddenly there were 2, then 4, police officers there, ’jacking me up’.  Two of them, only a few mintues before,  had stopped a known drug user leaving the dumpster area.  So this one cop presumed and assumed  that I was  ‘with’  that guy,  that I was his girlfriend.  
I  was  not !   I’d never heard of the guy but they didn’t believe me, and they kept repeating  and insisting that I was this guy’s girlfriend,  although I told them several times that I did not know who they were talking about,  that I did not know the guy.
Police tend to assume =everybody = is lying, because a lot of people do,  but in their mindset they don’t seem to grasp that  Not  everybody is hiding something or lying !
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They detained me for a pat-down search,  asked me if I had warrants  or  was on probation or parole.   ‘No’ . . ‘No ?’ . . ‘NO’.
They seemed disappointed when a computer check of my name & DOB showed clear.
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AND :  ‘When was the last time you used heroin?’… uh  Never !   EVER !    .
They even checked my arms for track marks.  I was extremely offended  but had enough common sense to stay calm, because they were all staring at me for my reactions,  seemingly hoping to create some ‘probable cause’  for arresting me. They seemed commited  and determined by that point to obtaining a certain result from the encounter.

Then, a search of my van,  densely packed with my flea market stuff,  as one dug through my things while the other 3 stared at me for my reactions.   After about 20 minutes of ransacking, with nothing incriminating to find,  they apparently realized there was nothing more they could do to try to fit me into their pre-conceived parameters of an easy  arrest on a slow day  with nothing better to do.
So off they went,  in search of the next person to jack up.   
And they did not apologize to me.
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I know things like this can happen everyday at the hands of over-zealous police, and sometimes end rather badly. . . so I felt  ‘lucky’.
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