The Lepreshawn was released from refresher training. He didn't enjoy the tunes I played for him during his express trip back to patrol. He can play his AC/DC and I can play my hood music. It's all good. Although I did pull up to him with my Billy Squier blaring...and he rolled his eyes...asked me where I had been hiding that.
MWAAHHHHAA! Aren't training officers great?
The police blotter went to hell in a hand basket...here's the first 5 hours of shift...all legit calls...
FELONY POSSESSION OF METH WITH INTENT TO DELIVER
FELONY POSSESSION OF METH WITH INTENT TO DELIVER
MAN WITH SHOTGUN AT SMITH'S GROCERY STORE
MAN WITH SHOTGUN TO HIS HEAD IN HOUSE
MAN WITH SHOTGUN AT APARTMENT COMPLEX SHOOTING CAR WINDOWS OUT
KIDNAPPING-TWO MINOR CHILDREN
1ST DEGREE SEXUAL ASSAULT WITH A MINOR CHILD
2ND DEGREE SEXUAL ASSAULT WITH A MINOR CHILD
ARE WE IN DETROIT, PEOPLE?! WILD WEST...MY ASS...
The guns were out of our holsters more than they were in.
That is an accurate assessment of how bad the night goes...
Guess what calls I got stuck with and you win a new car! JUST KIDDING. The police department might frown on me giving away my g-ride.
But...in case it becomes a prize, you should know-it goes really fast and you can make home movies inside the car.
Three of the crimes up there were committed by one person...the rest all had separate suspects. Guess which ones those are and you have my job...for a week...'cause I need a vacation.
I responded to 11 out of the above calls.
After taking Ma and Pa Kettle...(almost literally speaking) to jail, I ran from call to call. But first...the Kettles: a 53 year old cougar (who fell out of a tree and hit every ugly stick on the way down ) and her 37 year old husband went to jail for dealing dope.
It didn't slow down. But I was off my game all night. Maybe I was discombobulated because Lepreshawn wasn't in the car to harass. I had to go run 3 miles at the police gym around 1 AM just to run all the Boogie Man thoughts out of my head. It was getting scary out there. I was surprised I even got a break during all that chaos. BUT...I just hit the code 7 at the right time.
One of the most
I sized him up. He was quite the loser. You know what really pisses us off? When criminally minded people somehow infiltrate the criminal justice system and work beside us at some point. I really want to kick them in the privates.
Because he was into oversharing, he told me he got fired from being a cop because he got caught hiding in a locker in the girls' locker room at work. Yeah, you little pervs out there...get out of the girls' locker room...quick...before you get caught. And the dude was huge...so how do you stuff a 6-1 weighing in at 270 pound dude in a locker? No wonder he got caught. First, he's a GENIUS...big man in a little hole (sing it like Chris Farley and Dana Carvey)...second, I'm sure he was in there for days because he was stuck. Ugh!
He confessed all his sins over the last 5 years, telling tales that he wanted to make it big in movies and pics...and I'm not talking proper flicks. Who brags about that? Fucking douche canoe. Internet trader whore pimp child molester weirdo. Yes, he was three of the crimes above.
So anypervert, I arrested him and he smiled when I put the handcuffs on. I've had smart asses before who are snide and gaff at the PoPo. This was something else, but I chose to ignore him.
I patted him down and he giggled. Whiskey-tango-foxtrot. I was in possession of a real weirdo.
Not a good sign.
When I stuffed him in my half cage...ok, I was not being mean...blame the car design...he got in and shoved himself to the far corner. He giggled and squirmed (as much as he could) all the way to the jail. Weird.
I asked him if he was alright a few times on the way up to the pokey and he always smiled and said he was SUPER! Odd.
Never had he been to jail...except when he worked in one.
Sooo....was it nervousness? Was it stress?
Hell to the NOOOOOOO...
But I really didn't know what it was until after the fact.
When I took him through the Iron Gates of Hell..he was joking and laughing and yucking it up. Then the detention officer came in...did his thing.
The detention officer had a weird look on his face and he looked at me funny. Well, I looked at him funny right back. The dude was strange. What could I say?
I had a reputation of bringing in weirdos so I thought the DO was just giving me one of those regular weirdo looks.
He was passed through to the holding cells and I started to depart the ways.
They buzzed me on the intercom to stay in the book in room. I waited with obedience and an impatient stance.
Then the detention officer brought me the dreaded super dooper maximum strength germ killing knock the hair off your ballz sanitizer spray and a throw down towel.
I was confused.
DETENTION OFFICER: TRUST ME
ME: What the?
DETENTION OFFICER: TRUST ME. SHERIFF WOODY.
ME: Yeah, that about suits him.
DETENTION OFFICER: NO...YOU DON'T GET IT. HE HAD A PROBLEM IN YOUR CAR.
ME: What? We didn't have any issues. I had the recorder on. Is he complaining?
DETENTION OFFICER: NO. I AM TELLING YOU TO GO CLEAN OUT YOUR BACK SEAT.
ME: You don't have to yell at me. He didn't throw up or pee his pants. I call that a win-win.
DETENTION OFFICER: Sorry. He had a hard on in your car. Might have made a mess.
[Oh..the lights came on and angels DID NOT sing from heaven at the thought of jizz whiz in my g-ride]
ME: What the? Are you kidding me? The sicko. Really?
DETENTION OFFICER: Really. That's why he wouldn't stand against the wall right when I patted him down. He would have knocked his dick against the brick. Then after we passed him through...he told me he had a problem. It was a LITTLE problem...boner... but still.
ME: What the? Let me go talk to that fuckstick.
So I went back into holding and gave him a piece of my mind. Apparently, after talking about his deeds and then getting into my hot car with Ray J's "Sexy Can I" playing...he got turned on.
UGH! Perverts! What is wrong with people?! What a dick whistle.
EW! I will never understand the perverted ways of arousal.
In a ball in his cell while I am scolding him, he kept telling me he just needed help. I am sure I looked like the Bitch From Hell leaving that room. I can't even repeat what I said. It was on camera...so I am sure the Sheriff...not Sheriff Woody...will be calling my supervisor...or NOT. He hates perverts too.
And my poor g-ride...ruined for life. It will never be the same...I can't even look in my back seat anymore.
My car is so ashamed.
You can tell...she has been violated.
I even tried giving her a wash and wax job. It didn't help. And I share the pain of violation with her.
Car therapy anyone?
We can't play Ray J anymore. It brings back bad memories. At least it was a lame CD...not like throwing my Bone Thugs or 50 Cent out the window. God forbid if I had been using my iPod. That's an expensive disposable item. Or Billy...I just cringe to think what would have happened if I had played THE STROKE.
I hate it when the bad guys get one UP (pun intended) on the PoPo.