Stay in the car next time buddy


The other night, I responded to a traffic collision involving a pedestrian. When I arrived, I saw a male at the corner with fire personnel. Another cop was already there, who told me the male was lying in the intersection when he drove up.

The male had a head injury and abrasions to his arms. He kept repeating himself and wouldn’t listen when asked him questions.  You could tell he got his bell rung and there were little birdies circling his head like a cartoon character.

His wife was parked at the corner and she didn’t know what happened to him either. The witness was gone and I couldn’t get ahold of her. After some confusion, we finally figured out what happened.

It turned out the husband and wife were arguing as they drove down the street. When they stopped for a red light, he got out of the passenger seat in a huff and slammed the door.  She then left him in the street when the light turned green.

I’m sure getting out of a car in the traffic lanes sounded like a good idea at the time, but it didn’t work out so well for this future human hood ornament.

After driving off, the wife decided she should go back. When she returned, the woman found her husband lying in the middle of the intersection (with the same birdies circling his head).

It turned out he got hit by another car after she drove off. To add a twist to the story, the car took off.

So dumb.

You just can’t make this stuff up.


The puppy and the steering wheel


On Thursday night, I went to an injury crash involving a parked car on a busy residential street in the central part of the city. When I got there, I saw the driver sitting on the curb with fire personnel. His right eye was purple and swollen shut like Rocky Balboa after 15 rounds with Apollo Creed.

I looked at the scene and could tell the driver was northbound when he veered to the right and hit a parked truck.

I also saw a woman sitting on a retaining wall with a small dog in her arms about ten feet away from the driver. I dind’t pay attention to her because I thought she was one of the many onlookers, who were standing around and watching the show.

After the fire guys were done, I walked up to the driver and asked him what happened. With quivering lips he said, “I had my puppy on my lap.”

I looked back at the woman with the dog and realized the driver’s four-legged passenger must’ve had a rough ride.

The driver said, “My puppy put his head through the steering wheel. I pulled his head out and then tried to swerve away from the truck.”

After the driver was done telling me how the collision occurred, I said, “Doggone it.”

The joke hand grenade was in the air waiting for the driver to get it, but he never did. At least Noggie, who was standing next to me, got it.

After I was done with the interview, the driver sat on the curb and called someone. While he was on the phone, his voice changed and he became upset. I could tell from the conversation that the person on the other end didn’t believe his puppy story.

At one point he said, “I wasn’t fucking texting! The dog was on my lap and he stuck his head in the steering wheel!”

He was in the middle of his argument when I walked over to him and said, “If it makes you feel better, I believe you.”

He looked up at me with the most sincere look and said, “Thank you.”

My gut feeling told me he was telling the truth. Plus, his story was so crazy it was believable. It was the least I could do for the poor guy because his eye really did look like Rocky Balboa’s after a beat down.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

Need a Lyft?


Photo courtesy of

The other night, I responded to the parking lot of McDonald’s for a traffic collision involving a car and a pedestrian. The fire department and two other cops were already there when I arrived.

I saw a car stopped near the drive-thru window with a dislodged headlamp and a man sitting on the ground in front of it. The man, who was in his mid-fifties, told the fire fighters he didn’t want to go to the hospital.

They went back and forth about the man’s injury before it was decided he was going to get in the ambulance. They gurney was wheeled up to him and I jumped in to ask about the crash.

The man replied, “I work for Uber Eats.”

With two ambulance guys and four firefighters there, I couldn’t resist as I said, “The ambulance is going to give you a Lyft.”

The groans and laughs made my joke worth it, even though the Uber guy didn’t get it.

There’s nothing like a bad joke to keep things interesting….


The cat did it


One thing you hear every so often is the old “an animal ran out in front of me” excuse. Yes, I realize cats and dogs have a death wish, but a parked car is always involved when our four-legged friends are blamed. It’s funny how there’s never a witness around when this happens.

Then there’s the “my steering wheel locked up” excuse. Of course, a parked car is always the victim when this happens too. And once again, no one is ever around.

A few weeks ago, I responded to a crash at 1:30AM where four parked cars were struck. When I arrived, the officer on scene told me the driver was 18 years old and not DUI.

I replied, “Let me guess. A dog ran out in front of him?”

“No, a cat. He also said his steering wheel locked up.”

Oh boy.  A cat and a locked steering wheel on the same call? Was it Friday the 13th also?

I prepared myself for a tall tale and asked the driver what happened. The driver told me he was going 10 miles per hour when the cat dashed out in front of him heading southbound. I was on the edge of my seat when he courageously swerved (spectacular movie music in the background) to miss the cat. That’s when his steering wheel mysteriously locked up at that very moment and he crashed into the parked cars on the wrong side of the road.

I was breathless, intrigued and aghast at the cat and this incredible story. That’s when I asked, “What color was the cat?”

“It was black.”

Of course, it was a black cat. An orange cat with stripes and white tipped paws would never dash out in front of a car at 1:30AM.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

What planet are you from?


As a cop, you’re used to people lying to you. It’s part of the job. Sometimes it’s like a chess match where you have to be one step ahead of the lie. Other times, people are just plain stupid and say the dumbest things imaginable.

On Saturday night,  a driver told me he was stopped for a red light when he realized he was in the wrong lane. Instead of going straight,  he wanted to be in the left turn lane. He reversed without looking and crashed into the car behind him.

The other driver told me she was stopped at the red light when the car in front of her backed up and crashed into her.

It was nice and easy with no drama except for a DUI investigation.

During the investigation one of the passengers from the offending car told me, “She rear ended us.”

What planet was she from?

She went on to say, “I saw the gear and it was in drive. We were stopped and she rear ended us.”

Was she from plant “Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire?”

I shouldn’t have engaged her, but I did. I told her that both drivers confirmed how the collision occurred and she wasn’t telling the truth. Of course, she told tell me her silliness again, which made her nose grow like Pinocchio’s.

What a waste of time.  

Nothing annoys me more than hearing someone trying to influence the collision investigation with a lie. To me, this isn’t a normal lie. It’s much bigger than that.

A person’s driving record and insurance rates are at stake here. A lie like that could cost someone a lot of money over the next couple of years, or more if they are sued.

Next time how about being from plant STFU.

You’re having problems with what?


A few weeks ago, I responded to a traffic collision where a pedestrian was hit by a truck. When I arrived, I saw a full sized truck parked on the side of the road and an injured pedestrian sitting on the curb talking with fire personnel.

The pedestrian was a male in his early 60s and looked a little banged up. The poor guy was in the crosswalk when the collision occurred.

After I was done speaking to the pedestrian, I went up to the driver of the truck and asked, “What happened?”

The driver, who was genuinely concerned for the pedestrian said, “I’ve been having problems with my blind spot.”

I had never heard that one before. In fact, I almost started laughing, but he was fragile at the movement, so I just went with, “We all have blind spots.”

He got what I was saying and explained what he meant. After he was done, I told him I knew what he was talking about because the same thing almost happened to me.

Those spontaneous statements are one of the best parts about this job. You just never know what people are going to say.

Where’s my clipboard?


Last Saturday night I put my clipboard and notepad on the passenger side of my patrol car’s hood. If you’ve worked in a patrol car, you can see how this is going to end up.

So, there I was heading off to another late night traffic collision with the wind in my hair, lights streaking by me and the Miami Vice theme playing in my head. Well, actually there’s not much hair left anymore, but there were lights and it was nighttime.

When I arrived, I exited with the grace and agility of a jungle cat. That’s when I realized my clipboard wasn’t there. A feeling of dread hit me as numerous four-letter words flew out of my mouth. I needed that legal pad because it had notes from the last three crashes I took.

In a rush, I said hi to the cops at the crash and told them I had to go. I jumped back in my car and raced back to the scene of my absentmindedness. When I got there, I retraced my steps as I looked for my lost treasure.

That’s when I saw it. It was like a bright light as I saw my notepad lying in the gutter, untouched by passing traffic. The traffic gods had smiled down on me.


And then I saw my clipboard in two pieces. Old faithful made its last stand at 3AM on a six-landed highway with a 45 mph speed limit. It never had a chance.


It had been through so much over the last couple of years. Countless DUI crashes, fatal collisions, injuries and fender benders. It’s edges rounded, chipped and worn away. That clipboard had seen things..

Oh well, I needed a new clipboard anyways. That’s why Walmart sells a two-pack.

A crazy 902T


A few months ago the word “whale” came up during a call and it became a challenge to see if I could work it into the conversation with a suspect. Mission accomplished that night with a good laugh and an inside joke between me and another cop.

Another time the word “ball” came up on a call in a weird way by the driver of a crashed car. That night I was able to say ball in almost every other sentence while trying to keep a straight face. It’s a long story, but a good one for another time. It’s also another inside joke between me and the same cop.

On Thursday night, I was dispatched to a four-car injury traffic collision. A civilian report writer arrived on scene first and cancelled the fire department.

She next advised over the radio that the crash was a 902T (non-injury) instead of a 901T(injury). She added a little humor by saying, “It’s a crazy 902T.”

I never heard the phrase “crazy 902T” before, so I decided to have a little fun with it. I picked up the mic and said, “Confirming it’s a crazy 902T?”

“Affirm,” replied the dispatcher.

My computer beeped as a I got a message from MM, the cop with the inside “whale” and “ball” jokes. Her message gave me an idea.

I replied back, “Let’s see how many times I can say crazy 902T on the radio.”

I also typed to the dispatcher and said I was going to try and say “crazy 902T” on the radio when I went on scene.

When I arrived, I saw one car with front end damage disabled in the street. The other car struck two parked cars after the initial impact and was also disabled in the road.

“729, all eastbound lanes are closed and we’re going to have a sig-alert for the next hour for a crazy 902T.”

“10-4,” replied the dispatcher.

“729, I’ll need two 926s (tow trucks) for a crazy 902T.”


Two times. Maybe I could say it one more time.

I started talking with one of the drivers and decided the paramedics needed to respond. I keyed the mic and asked for the fire department. I next wanted to change the status of the call from non-injury to injury. What better way to do that by saying “crazy 902T” again.

“729, this is no longer a crazy 902T. It’s a 901T light.”

Mission accomplished

“It’s complicated”


Last week I responded to a disturbance call involving a man and woman. When I pulled up, I saw that the female had rear ended the male at a stop sign.

The damage was minor and I wondered what the big deal was. I walked up to the female as other cops spoke to the male. I learned that they were married a few months ago and they had an argument today at her house.

Not at their house or their apartment. At her house. That part was too complicated try to figure it out.

After the argument he drove to the park to be alone and she followed him there. From there, he left again.

“Why was he mad?” I asked.

“I posted something.”

“What did you post?”

“I posted a pic of a guy saying it was my new boyfriend to get him to leave me alone.”

“Let me get this straight. You posted a picture of a fake boyfriend so your husband would leave you alone?”


OMG! Who are these people and how did they get on this planet? Was I in the Twlight Zone again?

After he left the park she wanted to find him, so she went to where he normally parks his car. Didn’t she want him to leave her alone?

A few minutes later she found him and started following his car. He stopped for a stop sign and she rear ended him. To top it off, she told me he was drinking. Could this call get any stranger?  Yes, she didn’t even have a driver’s license.

In the end, he was arrested for DUI and both cars were towed.

After he was arrested she asked me, “Can I talk to him?”

Was she kidding?  It was almost like she was a black cloud following him. Maybe he was relieved to be going to  jail.

I’m wonder if her Facebook status says, “It’s complicated.”

You get an F


About a week ago I was stuck in late afternoon traffic that was heavier than normal. While I was stopped, dispatch put out an injury traffic collision involving four cars at the freeway off ramp just ahead of me.

I looked across the sea of cars and saw the crash north of the city limit and I requested the neighboring city respond for the report.

I turned on my overhead lights as I tried to move over to the left. Once in the left lane, I squeezed between the median and traffic as I moved at a snail’s pace. Getting through traffic was no different than trying to put on a pair of jeans that I wore in high school. It just wasn’t happening.

When I finally got up to the crash I saw car with a shattered rear window and its trunk in the backseat. The driver had a dazed look as he stood next to the paperweight that used to be his car.

A full-sized truck had rear ended him, which caused a chain reaction with two other vehicles. The driver of the truck told me he was on the gas while changing lanes and never saw the car in front of him.

I started the paper work and waited for the other officer to respond. Once the other cop arrived, I told the offending driver I was leaving.

He gave me a lost look and asked, “Do I get a report card?”

I knew he meant report number, but I couldn’t resist as I replied, “Yeah, you get an F.”

The F comment hung there like a silent but deadly fart traveling through the air searching out an unsuspecting victim. His facial expression then changed knowing he was just Badge415ized.

He smiled and said, “That’s fucked up.”

“You opened the door on that one,” I replied as I smiled.