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.

We’re both Laker fans

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The other night I was dispatched to a traffic collision involving two vehicles which had moved to a parking lot. When I arrived, I saw a man and woman speaking to each other.

I got out of my car and asked, “Is anyone hurt?”

In a loud and friendly voice the man said, “We’re both Laker fans. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.”

Since he was in his mid-fifties, I figured he’d been a Lakers fan for a long time. As a joke I asked, “Would it be a big deal if she was a Celtics fan?”

He turned toward the woman, who was in her mid-twenties and asked, “Are you a Phoenix Suns fan?”

It sounded like the guy didn’t like the Phoenix Suns instead.

You just never know what you’re going to hear at a traffic collision scene.

What’s in the box?

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The other night I went to a hit and run collision where a truck was rear ended at a red light. After the crash, the victim asked the bad guy for his information. The bad guy told him he didn’t have insurance, so the victim said he was going to call the cops.

The bad guy replied by saying, “I’ll go to jail.”

The bad guy went back to his car and returned with something in his hand. He walked over to the victim’s driver door and put something on the seat. He then went back to his car and took off.

The victim looked and saw a small red gift box with a yellow bow on top on his driver seat.

Was this some type of remorseful gift for the hit and run? Was there money or even jewelry to help the victim feel better about being left in the middle of the street with a damaged bumper and an injured wife?

What could it be? Was there something mysterious in the box? The feeling of anticipation was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“What was in the box?” I asked.

“Nothing,” replied the victim. “It was empty.”

“Empty?” I replied as I heard the loser tune from The Price is Right playing in the background. WTF

The victim’s daughter held the box up in her palm and opened it up for me. I looked inside and saw that it was as empty as when Geraldo Rivera opened Al Capone’s vault (Google it if you didn’t get it).

After I left the call I thought of something funny. It’s too bad I couldn’t leave the the gift box at the suspect’s door with a note inside that said, “Badge415 found you.”

Maybe this year Santa can leave a lump of coal for Christmas in this guy’s stocking.

“I have a clean record”

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“234, we just got rear ended,” said an officer on the radio.

He gave his location and advised there were no injuries. I grabbed the microphone and said, “729 en route.”

When I arrived, I saw both vehicles in the southbound #2 lane at the intersection. The officer told me they were stopped for a red light when they were hit from behind.

He also told me the SUV’s driver was unlicensed. I shook my head as I thought about the two times my patrol cars were hit by unlicensed drivers.

I walked up to the woman, who was still in the driver seat, and asked her to step out of the car so we could talk on the sidewalk.

“You want me to drive over there?” She asked.

“No, you don’t have a license. Come out and we’ll talk on the sidewalk.”

“I can drive over there,” she said as she pointed to the right.

I was pretty sure she’d already done enough driving for tonight. After she exited the car we walked to the sidewalk. Once we were safe on the sidewalk the woman said, “I have a clean record.”

Well, that made me feel better…..

During the interview I learned she applied for a driver’s license and failed the written test. When I heard that, I almost pointed to the cars and said, “You failed the driving test too,” but I held my tongue.

When the interview was over, I gave the driver a card with the report number on it and said her car was getting impounded. She responded by asking if she could keep the car.

Keep the car? Really?

Let me get this straight. She was unlicensed, failed her test, crashed into a police car and now she wanted to keep the car???

Hum, let me think about it…… No.

“Enjoy that feeling”

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The other night I was working a patrol shift when I was sent on a call with a new cop. I had met him once or twice when he was in training and didn’t know anything about him.

We handled the call and then talked next to our cars. I guessed him to be 21 or 22 years old. He had a baby face and probably shaved once a month. His youthful appearance and wide eye look gave him the unmistakable look of a new cop.

“How long have you been out of training?” I asked.

He thought for a moment and replied, “Four months.”

After a few minutes of talking, I could sense an energy and enthusiasm about him that reminded me of myself when I was his age. I stood there and remembered when everything was new.

Every call was an adventure and I would’ve done the job for free.

I stood there and wondered what I looked like as a “Boot” with my shiny new badge pinned to my chest with absolutely no idea what I was doing in the new world of police work. After reflecting, I thought back to this new guy, who still had 30 years ahead of him.

He didn’t have the look of a cop who had seen dead babies, dismembered body parts, or sacrificed family time for the demands of the job. He also didn’t have the look of a person who had seen and done things regular people only saw in movies or read in books. He still had his “innocence”. The job hadn’t changed him yet.

After talking with him for a few minutes I asked, “Would you do the job for free?”

He got a huge smiled and said, “Yes.”

He went on to tell me how he couldn’t wait to go back to work from his days off and how fun it was to be out here on the street. I listened and silently remembered saying the exact same things when I was his age.

“Enjoy that feeling,” I said. “When I was new, I would’ve done the job for free too.” After he laughed I added, “I still like coming to work, but I want to be paid now.”

You can’t beat getting paid for what you love doing.

My junior negotiator

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Last week I attended a 40 hour basic crisis negotiation class along with two other co-workers. We went to this training because we are the newest members of our department’s negotiation team.

On Wednesday I picked up my daughter from gymnastics. When she got in the car she said, “I tried some of the things you learned,” referring to the negotiator school.

She went on to tell me how she asked a girl at gymnastics how her day was. That particular question came from a negotiation book I just read. The goal was to ask that question and then use “mirroring” to get the girl to keep talking about her day.

The girl answered by saying, “It was good and bad.”

“It was good and bad?” asked my daughter.

The friend replied back and added more about her day. My daughter then repeated back the friend’s last words in the form a question just like she did with “It was good and bad?” This went back and forth at least five times as my daughter got the girl to keep talking.

With enthusiasm in her voice my 11 year old said, “I was shocked that it worked so well.” She was very proud of herself. She then said, “Can I be a junior negotiator?”

That made my day. The innocence and the smile on her face were truly a negotiator dad moment.