I want to like police officers. I really do—I don’t want to automatically distrust anyone with abadge and get nervous when an officer so much as looks in my direction even if all I’m doing is crossing the street. But man, police departments around the world, can’t you help me out a little?

I read this hilarious, but also disturbing article in Dame Magazine (where I am now the editor-at-large) this morning. It describes a program by the LAPD called Operation Any Booking. The goal: to arrest as many people as they can in 24-hours. Oh, and it gets better. Lt. James Tatreau said, “It’s just a friendly competition to have a little fun out here. It’s a morale booster.” Yeah, I bet all the arrested folks are happy as clams in their overcrowded cells.

Then just now, I read this article about a police department in Australia who deemed it necessary to jail a crocodile that “threatened local fisherman.” Yes, you heard me right, a jailed crocodile. That makes a lot of sense.

I’ve probably told most of you about my own brush with the law back in 2002. I’d just gotten off work and headed to a party at a friend’s apartment in the Lower East Side. I was sitting on the stoop, about 8 steps up, having a beer with friends, when all of a sudden a cop car drove up, lights flashing. I had no idea what was going on or who they were after. It turned out to be me, for the terrible offense of drinking a Corona—an open container on public property. I tried explaining to good old Officer Swanson that the stoop, part of my friend’s apartment building, was clearly private property, just like a sidewalk cafe. He said, “You’re probably right, but I’ve already started writing the summons.” Evidently, once you start, you can’t stop. Even if you’re wrong.

I went to court a month later and Officer Swanson actually showed up, so my case wasn’t automatically dismissed. I sat there for hours while one by one, all the people in the room (New York has a room just for open container and public urination charges) where called up to the podium. I was the only person in the court room who plead innocent all day. I got approximately 30 seconds to explain the whole thing to my public defender. She was the bomb, making my argument that the stoop was private property sound like something from a court drama. The judged asked to see the statute and a clerk brought it to him. He dismissed my case and I used all my willpower not to stick out my tongue at Officer Swanson. The rest of the people in the courtroom clapped. I don’t know how much money this whole rigamarole cost the city of New York.

So come on police, show me that you’re the good guys.