I spent the night locked up with a bunch of guys who — as one so astutely put it — are squares. These were not rabble-rousing cop haters in Guy Fawkes masks. I was one of the youngest guys there. Some were fathers in their 40s and 50s. Most were booked for actions just as arbitrary as mine — crossing a street, coming out of the wrong subway station at the wrong time. One guy eventually eked out one phone call and one of his first questions was, "Does mom know?"