Distracted Masses Vol. 1 Issue #3 1 | Page 23

the cash, thinking he was going to run, but was instead handed my phone before everyone departed and went their separate ways. Unfortunately all the data had been erased and my SD card removed from the phone, but it still worked, as I kept receiving phone calls and text messages asking if I had a ‘teener’ or if I ‘wanted some black.’ Needless to say, I turned the phone off and let it run out of minutes. “If the cops look at my phone they’ll think I’m a drug dealer,” I thought. “This is not good.” Despite my trepidation I decided it would be best to update Casias and let him know I’d also identified two persons of interest who could possibly know more about what happened to me the night I was attacked. To add to my frustration, I was told Casias was off for the day and
 that I could leave a message, which I did. I waited several days before deciding that I should try to contact Casias again, but this time was told by the person answering the phone that the computers were down and that I’d have to leave a message. No one from the Albuquerque Police Department attempted to contact me through the whole month of December, so I took it upon myself to report the incident to the Attorney General’s office in downtown Albuquerque, which was a much easier and less stressful experience than reporting the incident to the police. They actually let me report the incident in person, face-to-face with no wait time! When January rolled around I’d pretty much given up hope. One of the most traumatic experiences in my life wasn’t even a blip on the radar screen for these guys. And I’ve had some pretty traumatic experiences in my life, like being shot at in Iraq and seeing dead burned bodies littered across the highway, but this was something else. I couldn’t think about anything else other than the face of the officer and the time that was missing from my life. I was pretty much fed up, but then on Jan. 8, 2015 I received a call at 6:42 p.m. from Diane, the investigator with the CPOA, phone number (505) 924-3727. My hope was revived, as Diane was the only person I had talked to about the incident who I felt might actually be able to do something . . . “Hello,” I answered. “Can I speak to Scott Albright,” the voice said, identifying herself as the Diane who had contacted me earlier regarding my police complaint. My excitement peaked, but then flattened out not even a split second later. “I’m sorry to tell you” . . . blah, blah, blah. . . No information, no interviews, no video, no nothing. Diane hadn’t talked to anyone. Not a single person. She was calling to tell me the CPOA was done and wringing their hands clean of the case. I interrupted before she tried to get off the phone. “Just for the record,” I said. “After reviewing everything that happened and looking into the [6] matter further I’ve come to the conclusion that either a taser or stun gun was used on me when I was assaulted.” Diane interjected. “If it was a taser there would be two puncture marks. . .”
 “There were,” I said. “About a half an inch across, not too far apart.” “Oh, they would be further apart,” she retorted. “If it was a stun gun there would be burn marks.” I didn’t even wonder if she’d considered that the width of the marks should be smaller since the officers were at such a close range, maybe 2-3 feet away. Of course she hadn’t. She had no information. She hadn’t talked to anybody or even looked at the picture of the puncture marks on my forehead I had taken almost as soon as I came home the morning of Nov. 7. She told me herself that she had no information, yet she continued to argue with me about my own account of what happened, like she knew more about it than I did. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before,” I said. “I’ve never lost my memory like that.” “Tasers don’t cause memory lose,” Diane lied. I started shaking at this point. What the hell did this lady know about anything? Why the hell was she calling me? To lie to me? Of course tasers cause memory loss when shot into someone’s head. “I”m sorry, but I’ve done the research and looked at the medical journals,” I told Diane. “Tasers do cause memory loss. There was a cop who was shot in the back of the head with a taser who lost his memory for an hour,” I told her. After reviewing the Canadian Medical Association Journal article I was referring to a second time, I realized the actual time of memory loss the cop suffered was probably much longer. “You and I are not jiving,” I told Diane. “Now you are just telling me untruths.” I hung up the phone and proceeded to let the shaking out of my body before attempting to vent my frustration elsewhere.