“Can you let me in?”

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I walked up to the backlot doors of the police department the other day at 4:45AM after a late call. I had my computer and clipboard in one hand and a drink in the other. I also had a shot gun slug over my left shoulder that was slipping as I tilted my body to the side of keep it up.

My building pass was in my left breast pocket and I leaned against the wall so the sensor could beep and unlock the door. The sensor beeped and I pulled on the door handle with my finger tips, but it didn’t open.

I leaned against the wall again and the beep sounded a second time. The door was still locked though. I tried this a few more times, wondering if the dispatchers were watching me on their camera.

In defeat, I finally pushed the call button and asked if they could open the door. After they answered, I turned toward the door and pulled on the handle, but it was still locked. I kept pulling and pulling, but the door just wasn’t going to open.

Now, I knew they were watching me and laughing. That’s when the radio came alive as the dispatcher said, “729.”

I slowly turned toward the camera wondering what was coming next. I keyed the mic and replied, “729.”

“729, are you Code 4?”

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders at the camera as I replied, “I’m code 4,”

I eventually got in and laughed all the way down the hall at my door experience. Now that was funny.

Did they dent the hood?

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I saw an unusual call holding the other night about a man and woman having sex on the hood of a car in a cul-de-sac. Not in the car…..On the car.

I drove into an industrial area and headed toward the cul-de-sac in question. I knew the area well because I’ve typed reports there before. I turned onto the street and followed the road as it curved to the left. As the street straightened out, I could see a man and a woman standing next to a car at the dead end.

There was a blanket covering the hood and the windshield. The blanket looked cozy. These people were serious about their car sex.

I stopped my car, which didn’t have a blanket on it, and got out as they continued to talk as if I wasn’t there. When they finally looked at me I noticed a “glow” about them. It must’ve been the mood, the lighting and the endorphins.

I said, “Hi. I’m here because someone called.”

They gave me a confused look at first.  The look changed when they realized what I was talking about as they looked at each other.

“You had an audience,” I said. “Someone was watching and called the police. That’s why I’m here.”

That was when the “glow” look turned to embarrassment.

I pointed to the blanket as I pulled out my phone and said, “I gotta get a picture of this.”

You just can’t make this stuff up.

“It must be new”

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The other night, I went to a call where a car crashed into a railing in a cul-de-sac. When I got there, There was the car, a damaged railing and a tire that was torn off from the impact.

There was a small park at the end of the cul-de-sac that separated an industrial area from a neighborhood. This particular neighborhood was like an island with its own run down looking store that was at least 60 years old.

I asked the driver what happened and he gave me a lame story about traveling to the neighborhood market and not knowing there was a dead end street here. I looked over at the marker and of course, it was closed.

The street he was traveling on happened to be a straightaway that was at least .3 miles long.  It was the prefect street for a race.

I asked him what city he lived in, where he grew up and if he’d been to this store before. It turned out he had been to the store before and he grew up very close to the collision scene. In other words, he was familiar with the area.

After hearing that I asked, “You didn’t know there was a cul-de-sac here?”

“It must be new.”

How dumb. This street had been like this for over 20 years. Nice try kid. You lost the race and you need a new tire.

He should probably change his Facebook status to “walking.”

Is that your broom?

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On Friday night, I went to a crash where one car made a left turn in front of another. When I arrived, I saw an injured woman sitting on the curb next to her crashed car. I started to ask her what happened when she said, “You look familiar.”

“Have you crashed before?” I replied.

“No, but my employee did.”

“Where?”

She went on to describe the crash, which involved a Domino’s Pizza delivery guy and a DUI driver. After she gave me enough details, I told her I remembered.

With a smile she said, “You were so nice.”

I thanked her and she went on to tell me how today’s crash happened. While we were talking, I looked down and saw a broom at her feet. It just seemed like an odd thing to see in the street at a crash.

The woman was having some anxiety problems at the time, so I decided to lighten the mood as I asked, “Where did the broom come from?”

In between deep breaths she smiled as said, “I have no idea.”

Too bad it wasn’t Halloween night. We could’ve looked under the car for a witch.

What kind of animal was it?

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A few weeks ago I was sent to a call where a car crashed into a tree on the east end of our city. When I arrived, I saw the car in the middle of the street with major damage and fluid running downhill.

There was a pine tree on the side of the road with a large battle scar from the impact. The tree stood upright and strong as if to say, “Is that all you got?”

The officers on scene told me the driver crashed because of an animal.  I had heard that one before. Which animal was going to be blamed tonight? I was guessing a dog or a cat.

The woman, who was in her 30s, told me, “An animal ran in front of my car.?

I couldn’t resist as I asked, “Was it a squirrel?”

The woman gave me a confused look as she shook her head. She said, “I think it was a coyote. I have a picture.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She looked at her phone for a few seconds and then showed me a picture of a coyote in her backyard.

“Is that the coyote that ran in front of your car?” I asked.

“No!” She replied with a hard shake of the head.

“Which way was the animal running? Was it going that way or that way?” As I pointed to each side of the road.

“It was in the middle of the street.”

“Was it a squirrel?”

“No,” she said again with a strange look.

“What did you do?”

“I closed my eyes and the airbag went off.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a squirrel?”

“Why do you keep asking if it was a squirrel?”

“Because its funny,” I replied with a big smile.

She heard that and burst out laughing. I was glad she laughed because I wasn’t sure how she was going to take my joke.

There’s one thing for sure about police work. Sometimes you just have to have fun out here.

Tore up from the floor up

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The call went out as a fight on the fifth floor of a hotel involving numerous subjects in a room. A two-man car was dispatched and went on scene. I happened to be driving by and decided to stop.

I took the elevator up and turned left when the doors opened up. There was an officer standing outside the room with a male, who was a hotel guest with five other people.

After talking with him for a few minutes, I learned his friend was a mean drunk and all-around party buzzkill. He told me she was out of control and yelling.

I could tell his shirt was stretched from being pulled on, so I asked him about it. He looked down at the stretch marks and told me the party buzzkill drunk had done that when they tried calming her down.

She sounded like a keeper.

We stood by while the other officer went to speak to the hotel management about the room. It turned out there were so many complaints about the room the hotel wanted them out. The officer came back and gave them the bad news.

The group heard this and started gathering their belongings while the drunk buzzkill was still on the floor. After everything was packed they tried to get her up.

I was still in the hallway when one of the female friends said, “She’s still swinging. You guys are going to have to get her.”

We walked into the room just in time to see her get up from the floor. Her hair was like she stuck her finger in the light socket. Her clothes were disheveled and she looked like a hot mess. In short, she was tore up from the floor up.

I walked into the hallway to get out of the way of “tore up from the floor up.” I stood against the wall as the group walked by. She then started walking down the hall like the floor shifted for her.

It was like she was a piece of metal and I was a magnet as a 170lbs hot mess went toward me in slow motion. There was nowhere for me to go as her head and body bounced off of my chest like we were a in a pinball machine.

The friends grabbed her as they looked at me and said, “Sorry!”

The party buzzkill next walked up to the fire door in the hallway and punched it. The door started to close as her friends said, “Calm down. They’re going to arrest you.”

When they got to the car she wouldn’t get in. She put her arms on top of the roof and leaned on the car as they tried to push her in. After a few tries they got her in.

The entire scene was hilarious. Too bad I didn’t get a picture of her hair. That would’ve made this story perfect.

Where’s the camera?

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On Wednesday I went to court to testify on a case. When I got to the courthouse, I found out the elevators were broken, so I had to use the stairs to go up to the fourth floor.

I opened the door to the stairway and started climbing. Thats when I saw two small unopened Snicker candies on the right side of the staircase.

What were they doing there? Was it a trap?

I walked by the candy and kept going to my courtroom where I testified for about 25 minutes. After I was done, I went to our court liaison office and filled out my overtime slip before heading back toward the stairs.

As I descended the stairs, I wondered if the snack sized Snickers bars were still there. Not only were they still there, but they had been moved to the other side of the stairs!!!

I almost started looking for a hidden camera.

I still think it was a trap……

The bump in the night

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I was stopped for a red arrow in the left turn lane when the dispatcher called me over the radio saying, “729.”

“729?” I responded as I gave my location.

The dispatcher came back on the radio and sent me to a crash involving a car that had struck a wall on the west end of the city.

“10-4,” I replied.

My light was still red, but the traffic signal for through traffic was green. I decided to move over and go straight rather than wait for the red arrow. I put the car in reverse as I quickly glanced into the rear view mirror. Apparently, I glanced up too quickly……

I started to back up and I felt a bump.

It was a bump, not a thump. It was a bump in the night.

A bump you say?

There was one problem with this bump. There was no Thing One or Thing Two. There was no Cat In The Hat or Dr Seuss to make this a funny story.

The bump in the night was my police car hitting the car behind me.

With an embarrassed feeling, I got on the radio and gave my location as I told dispatch that I was just involved in a traffic collision. I then waited for a sergeant to come out and take a look.

When it was all said and done, there there was no damage to the other car, but there were some minor scratches to my rear bumper. Another patrol unit was called to take my collision report. Ironically, I had taken his report when he was in training. This was the first time where a prior customer took my report.

After I cleared the call, I ran into one of my old traffic buddies. He heard what happened and just laughed at me. I laughed with him, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

Then someone pulled a copyright infringement on me and used one of my traffic sayings when they said, “You just can’t go around hitting shit.”

OMG. It was hilarious. I never thought that saying would be used on me.