The Cucumber Story

The actual cucumber

The actual cucumber

One night, dispatch broadcasted an unknown trouble call over the radio with no other details except there was a man down on the sidewalk. I was close by and responded with other officers.

When I got there, there was a male in his mid to late 50s lying on the sidewalk. There was no one else around except for him. He was disoriented and was hard to understand. He didn’t look homeless and he had clean clothes on. I didn’t get close enough to see if he was drunk.

At first, it appeared the guy might have fallen and hit his head, but we weren’t sure. It clearly wasn’t a collision since the guy was on the sidewalk and there was no evidence of a car hitting him or anything else.

Other officers and fire personnel spoke with the guy to try and find out what happened. I stood by with another officer as we watched. While we stood there, we couldn’t help but notice that there was a large cucumber on the sidewalk next to the man.

It wasn’t a gun, a knife or any other type of weapon. It was a cucumber. And I’m not talking about any old cucumber. I’m talking the longest cucumber ever seen. It was the type of cucumber that would make other vegetables jealous.

There were so many questions now. Was the cucumber the weapon that took him down or was he carrying it? Even if he was carrying it, who walks around with a cucumber at night?

Someone else handled the call so there was really wasn’t anything to do except to make jokes about the cucumber. How could we not?

Good thing it wasn’t in his pocket. That would’ve been an awkward conversation for sure. “Is that a cucumber or are you happy to see me?”

The paramedics loaded him onto a gurney and started to wheel him toward the ambulance. The cop I was talking with picked up the cucumber and put it on the gurney next to the guy. Who knows, it might’ve been his.

I bet that was the first time a cucumber went for a ride in an ambulance. I’m sure the people at the hospital were going to have the same questions about the cucumber on steroids.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

What do you say to a driver with a blind person’s cane?

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The other night I responded to an injury collision involving three cars. When I arrived, I saw the usual sight of crashed cars and a fire truck on scene. One of the vehicles was in the middle of the intersection. The other car was up against a traffic signal pole and a third car was parked off to the side.

The car in the middle of the intersection had two women in it. The driver was in her late 60s to early 70s and the passenger was at least ten years older. They both had a frail look. I stood at the door and spoke to the driver through the window as fire personnel worked on the passenger. After I was done I went to speak to the other drivers.

One of the other drivers told me how she had made a left turn when she was hit by a car. The collision caused her to spin around and hit a third car and then a pole.

After I was done speaking to all three drivers, I noticed the woman from the first car was still in the driver seat. I walked up to her and asked if she wanted a tow truck. She told me she was waiting for another ambulance to take her to the hospital. The firefighters were standing off to the side and I didn’t know they had called for another ambulance.

I was standing at the driver door when I noticed she was folding up a blind person’s cane. It’s not every day that you see a driver with a blind person’s cane. It kind of raised a red flag.

“Is that your cane,” I asked as I tried not to laugh.

“No. it’s hers,” as she pointed to the passenger seat. “Mine is the walker in the backseat.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I wasn’t expecting that answer.

It goes to show that you never know what you’re going to hear at a traffic collision. After all these years, that was the first time I ever asked a driver if they owned a blind person’s cane.

“Why didn’t you stop for the red light?”

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People are funny because they tend to all say the same thing in similar situations when the police catch them doing something wrong. There are some answers that you can bet on to be the same every time.

These common answers can be fun to work with because you can see them coming a mile away. Of course, it depends on the situation, but there are times when I can be two questions ahead of someone because I’ve already been in that particular situation thousands of times before.

“I paused” is one such answer when it comes to failing to stop for a stop sign or a red light.

I recently stopped a man for making a right turn against a red light at an intersection without stopping. He did it right in front of me, so I pulled him over. After he stopped, I walked up on the driver side and asked him for his driver’s license. I then asked him about the violation while he looked through his wallet.

“Why didn’t you stop for the red light?” I asked.

“I paused.”

“You paused?”

“Yes, I paused.”

“Do you have a DVR at home?” I asked.

“Yes,” the man answered with a confused look on his face.

“When you’re watching a movie and you press the pause button what happens to the movie?”

“It stops.”

“So, why didn’t you stop for the red light then?

It was like the wheels were turning in his head as he squinted, trying to figure out what just happened. The look on his face was great because he wasn’t expecting that question. That might have been the first time he heard that question, but it was probably my one hundredth time asking it. This then set up my next question.

“So, you really didn’t stop, right?”

“No,” he said with a defeated look.

“She has brain matter coming out of her head.”

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I pulled up to the accident scene and saw a car that looked like the Incredible Hulk had just torn it open and tossed it into a pole like an empty Coke can. Half the car was crushed beyond recognition was headed to car heaven.

My first thought was to check on the victim to see if this was going to be a fatal collision. As I walked up to the ambulance an officer spotted me and said, “She’s has a major head injury.”

That didn’t surprise me after looking at the car. The same officer then said, “She has brain matter coming out of her head.”

The words “brain matter” and “car accident” are never a good combination under any circumstances.

I decided to peek into the ambulance just to see if I could learn some more information about the injuries. I expected to see the paramedics franticly trying to save her life, but instead they were talking to victim in a normal voices.

Looking at the scene and then inside the ambulance was like turning the radio from a heavy metal station to a classical music station. One was chaotic and the other was peaceful.

Something didn’t look right here. People with brain matter coming out of their head usually don’t look that good. I could see her blood socked hair, but she looked remarkably well given the circumstances.

I looked back at the officer and said, “She’s talking.”

“But it’s a bad injury,” the officer replied.

I stuck my head back in the ambulance again and saw the victim having a normal conversation with the paramedics. I pulled my head back out and said, “But she’s talking.”

The fire captain then got out of the ambulance and smiled at me like he usually does when we see each other. We shook hands as I asked, “How bad is she?”

“She might have a punctured lung,” he said.

No hint of death and no mention of brain matter coming out of her head. I asked him about the head injury. The captain told me she had a large laceration, but she was going to survive. Now I was really confused.

I shrugged it off and went about my business as I handled the scene. I had dispatch send an officer to the hospital to check on the victim’s status just in case.

Later on, the officer from before walked up to me and said she wanted to show me something. She had taken a closer look at the car and saw something that explained the “brain matter” she had seen coming out of the victim’s head.

She pointed to a pizza box in the twisted wreckage and all of our questions were answered as if a giant light came down on us from the pizza gods in the sky.

It turned out the “brain matter” had been pizza that flew out of the box after the car had been broadsided, spun around and struck a pole. It explained everything and it was truly one of the funniest things ever from a collision scene.

The victim not only survived a nasty car accident, but also the flying pizza.

In my experience, brain matter usually looks like tapioca pudding. But in the officer’s defense, flying pizza could’ve also looked like brain matter if it was mixed in with blood soaked hair.

I’m just glad there wasn’t pineapple on the pizza. That would’ve just confused everyone even more.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

The sleep over at McDonalds

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One night, McDonald’s called the police about a transient who refused to leave the restaurant. I was close by, so I answered up to assist. How hard could it be to ask a transient to leave a business?

When I got there, I couldn’t help but laugh. There was a homeless guy sleeping in a booth on his right side with his leg sticking out into the aisle. His left arm and leg were on top of the table, like it was his personal body pillow.

The sound of his snoring echoed and vibrated off the plastic seat like it was a rhythmic dance. This guy wasn’t just napping; he was in for the night. The only thing missing was a blanket and a stuffed animal.

The restaurant was pretty busy at the time with people eating and minding their own business. It was like they were used to seeing a homeless man having a sleep over.

I walked up to the manager and asked, “How long has he been here?”

“Two hours.”

“He’s been like that for two hours?”

“Yes. He won’t wake up.”

I walked over to the guy and tried to wake him up, but he was in a deep, alcohol induced coma. He smelled so bad I wondered how people could still be eating around him. It was one of those smells that stayed with you. It was a mixture of beer, toe jam and body odor all in one.

Another officer arrived and he couldn’t wake the guy up either. By now, the entire restaurant was watching us between bites of french fries and Big Macs. We shook the guy numerous times, but he only proved to be a 160lbs paper weight.

The fire department finally arrived and loaded their new found treasure onto a gurney. He snored the entire time as they took him to the ambulance.

As I was about to leave I wondered if McDonald’s was going to clean the table. Who knows what kind of germs that guy had. I certainly wouldn’t want to eat at that table without a good cleaning.

I walked over to the manager and explained to him that they should clean the table before letting customers eat there. The manager then sent someone over there as I left.

It was a funny thing to see. I only regret not taking a picture of sleep beauty. Oh well. I’m sure this won’t be the last time I see something like this.

The call at the crematorium

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The other day, I was on my way to a collision call when dispatch broadcasted a panic alarm over the radio at a crematorium. Now, that in itself sounds weird. I wondered if someone wasn’t ready and hit the panic button to stop the process.

I was right around the corner from the call so I went there instead. I pulled my car to the curb just north of the location and didn’t see anything going on outside. I picked up the microphone and couldn’t resist as I said, “729, It looks dead out front. I’ll stand by for the follow.”

When the other officers arrived, we had dispatch call inside the business, but there was no answer. We then walked around the business as we checked doors. When we got to the rear we heard a loud bang come from inside. Now we knew at least one person was alive inside.

We knocked on the door a few times before a man opened it up. He was wearing a large reflective apron, two large pot holder style gloves that went up to his elbows and a hat with a face shield. There was also sweat pouring down his forehead. I could feel the heat coming from inside the location through the open door.

The man told us he was alone and didn’t realize the alarm had been set off by another co-worker, who just left.

I asked, “Is it hot in there?”

“Yes, it’s hot,” he said with a smile.

“Can we come in and look?” I asked.

“Sure.”

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We walked inside as the worker started telling us about the cremation process. The ovens were on one side of the room that you could feel the heat coming from. On the other side of the room there were three long cardboard boxes on a conveyor belt.

Off to the side there were six more boxes that were stacked on shelves. Next to that was a large refrigerator the size of the wall. The worker told us that each of the boxes had bodies inside that were waiting to be put into the ovens.

Within  a few minutes, we were done and we went back out to our patrol cars. Now, it was time for another call, but we had a story to tell for sure.

As officers, we’re used to dealing with dead bodies, but this was entirely different. The place had a weird feeling about it.

It was definitely not a place I ever thought I would get a tour of. In fact, I had no idea our city had a crematorium until that call. I had driven by this location many times over the years and had never seen anyone outside.

Thinking back, I guess it wouldn’t be the type of place where you saw a bunch of people hanging around.

This was more of a place where everyone was dying to get in.

You never know when you’re going to hear a Hall and Oates song

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One night, my partner Mike and I were standing in front of our favorite 7-Eleven when a transient came up to talk with us.

It was a chilly night and he was wearing a beanie with a fedora hat on top. It was quiet the fashion statement for the area. He had a beard that was unkempt and the look of someone who had lived on the street for some time.

During our conversation I decided to ask him a random question. “Do you like Hall and Oates?”

He gave me a weird look and then said, “I saw them in concert once.”

“When?” I thought he was pulling my leg.

“About 10 years ago. I saw them at the fair.”

“What fair.”

“The LA County Fair.”

Wow. We had actually been at the same concert. What were the odds of that?

I asked, “Can you sing Maneater?”

He waved his hand in the air and said, “No, I don’t like that song.”

I wasn’t expecting that response and it made me laugh. I thought everyone liked Maneater. I then asked him what other Hall and Oates songs he knew.

He said, “Rich Girl.”

“Can you sing it?”

I took out my phone and got the video ready. He hesitated at first, but then started singing a cappella.

“She’s a rich girl and you’ve gone too far

Cause you know it don’t matter anyway

You can rely on the old man’s money

You can rely on the old man’s money

It’s a bitch girl…..”

That’s when he got stuck as he started to repeat that part.  He grinned and threw his hands up in surrender as he finished.

It was priceless. He did such a good job I gave him a Cliff Bar from my cooler. It was the least I could do for the guy.

Hall and Oates would’ve been proud.

The driver who got a history lesson on my car stop

You just gotta have fun……

One night we were dispatched to a traffic collision in an alley with no details. The caller reported possibly hearing a crash after car was skidding up and down the alley.

We drove the alleys of the neighborhood, but couldn’t find any damage. We then saw a car that matched the description and stopped it.

It turned out to be the correct car except there was no collision damage. The driver confirmed everything the caller had described, which included the skidding and fast driving through the alleys. To top it off, he was unlicensed.

I thought we were going to impound his vehicle since he was unlicensed, but my partner, who was training as a new traffic officer, said the driver could keep his car. My mouth fell open when I heard that.

I said, “Hold on. You have to answer a question correctly or we’re going to impound your car.”

He pointed to the other officer and said, “He told me I could keep the car.”

“I know, but I’m in charge here,”

He looked back and forth at us, as I tried to keep a straight face.

“How many continents are there in the world?” I asked.

The confused look on his face was priceless. It was as if his head was about to explode.

“Um, Thirty four?”

“No, seven,” I said as I corrected him like a TV game show host with a buzzer in the background.

His head involuntarily bounced back as he rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in the air like he had just dropped the game winning touchdown pass.

“Ok, let’s try another question. Name the president who was assassinated in 1865.”

He couldn’t even answer it. I probably started with questions that were too hard. He was clearly not the Trivial Pursuit champion.

“It was Abraham Lincoln,” I said.

“Lincoln wasn’t president when he was shot.”

“Yes he was,” I said.

“No, he wasn’t.”

I had to take a commercial break to help educate this guy on where, when and who shot Abraham Lincoln.

After I was done I asked, “Did you finish high school?”

“No.”

“Okay. What was Abraham Lincoln’s mother’s name?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a frustrated look.

“It was Mrs. Lincoln,” I replied with a smile.

Again the arms went up and the head went back in frustration.

That’s when I broke out the “rock, paper, scissors” game and said he could keep his car if he won.

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He looked back and forth at us like he couldn’t believe this was happening. I put my hands in the starting position and said, “On three.” He reluctantly put his hands up to play.

Just as we started to hit our palms, I stopped and said, “Let’s make this interesting. If I win, you go to jail too.”

His eyes almost flew out of his head when he heard that. I was trying my hardest not to laugh at this point.

Now it was time to play. He bent his knees and raised his hands to the ready position. He tapped his feet as he crouched down like a tennis player at The French Open waiting for the serve to come his way.

The tension mounted as we started counting “1, 2, 3,” at the same time our fists hit our open palms.

We both had “rock” the first time.

Then we both had “paper” the second time. The competition was fierce.

The guy was totally into it now. He was concentrating as if every strike of his palm was his last. It was like sudden death overtime in a football playoff game. We then tied the third time as he both showed “rock” again.

I finally let him off the hook and said he could keep his car. The look of relief on his face was like the “Thrill of Victory” from the opening credits of Wide World of Sports. I could swear he was breathing hard after too.

I then asked, “What did you learn tonight?”

He said, “I learned Lincoln was killed in the movie theater.”

“No! There were no movie theaters in 1865. It was just a theater,” I said as I shook my head in disbelief.

“What else did you learn?”

“There are seven continents in the world.”

“What else?”

“Don’t drive without a f#^!ing license.”

Bingo

After it was all said and done, I didn’t feel bad at all. He could’ve crashed and hurt someone.

Plus, he didn’t get a ticket, so entertaining me was the least he could do.

Don’t forget to be thankful for what you have

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Every night at work I’m reminded why I’m thankful for what I have.

The other night I responded to a single vehicle traffic collision call where a pole was struck. When I arrived, I saw the driver and his vehicle in a parking lot with a flat front tire and a damaged fender. There was a pole with minor damage not far away.

The driver, who was in his 30’s, was with his 5 year old daughter. It was after midnight and she was sleeping in the backseat. There was a spare tire on the ground next to the vehicle.

The driver was wearing baggy jeans, a white tank top, had a shaved head, tattoos, and a mustache. The top of his head had a large number 13 tattooed on it.

While we were talking I found out his driver’s license was suspended and he had just spent a little over 3 years in state prison for a felony DUI. That got me interested because you really have to try to end up in state prison.

“Did you kill someone?” I asked.

“No. I hurt someone bad.”

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. I used to drink until I blacked out.”

“How long ago did you get out?” I asked.

“A year ago.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m 34.”

“How many years of your life have you been in custody?”

“Over half,” he replied.

“How old were you when you first got arrested?”

“I was 9.”

“You were 9?”

“I stole a pair of pants from JC Penny.”

“Where were your parents during this time?” Were they gangsters too?”

“I never knew my dad. I know nothing about him. My mom was a doper. They took us away from her and put us in an orphanage.”

“Really?”

“I never had a chance.”

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There were two DUI convictions on his driving record and one for driving on a suspended license. He didn’t have car insurance either. He wasn’t the guy you wanted driving around you in case there was a crash.

I told him his car was going to get impounded because his license was suspended and I asked if someone could pick him up. He told me his aunt could, but she lived in Riverside.

“Go ahead and call her.”

“My phone died. I don’t have a charger.”

“Do you have any money for a cab?”

“No.”

“Do you want to call Uber?” I asked.

“What’s Uber? Is it free?”.

Oh geez…..

My dispatch called his aunt and gave her the message to pick him up. I didn’t want the little girl to be stranded any more than she was, so I said I would drop them off at a 24-hour Subway.

He went to the car and woke her up. She got out of the car with a blanket and a sleepy look on her face. I sat on my rear bumper and her asked questions about school and the Frozen shirt she was wearing. She told me she went to Disneyland today and how she was starting school soon. After we were done talking I asked her if she wanted to ride in a police car. She nodded, but she didn’t seem so sure.

I moved my stuff and then had them sit in the backseat. My patrol car has a regular backseat, so it’s more comfortable. I’m sure the dad had a Beverly Hills Cop moment like when Eddie Murphy said, “This is the cleanest and nicest police car I’ve ever been in.”

I dropped them off at Subway and told the clerk they were in a traffic accident and were waiting for a ride. I then bought the little girl some cookies. As I handed her the cookies I said, “Remember, the police are there to help you. You can come to us when you need help.”

She nodded and took her bag of cookies. The driver thanked me and I left.

Two minutes later,  I was standing next to a vehicle that was completely destroyed by a DUI driver at another collision scene.

After everything calmed down at the next crash, I was able to reflect on the previous call and think how lucky I was to grow up the way I did.

Here was a perfect example of the nightly reminders at work that make me grateful for what I have and where I came from. Everyone needs a reminder from time to time.

A stranger in need

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Tonight, I responded to a call involving a person who wanted to jump off a bridge. The call location was in a neighborhood about a half mile from the freeway overpass.

When I arrived, I saw a male and female standing together on the corner in front of a house. I assumed the male was a close friend or boyfriend based on how close they were standing next to each other.

The woman, who was in her early 20s, briefly told me she wasn’t taking her medication and had suicidal thoughts. She clearly had emotional problems and she needed help. I gathered some  preliminary info from her and then let another officer take over that part of the investigation when he arrived.  I then spoke to the male to find out how he was involved.

The male, who was about 20 years old, told me he was riding his skateboard down the street when she flagged him down.

“She just stopped you? Do you know her?”

“I don’t know her. She just opened up to me,” he said.

“What did she say?”

“She said she was depressed and she wanted to jump off a bridge.”

“She just stopped you and told you that?”

“Yes.”

“Who called 911?” I asked.

“We both did.”

I asked the male for his name and information. He handed me an identification card and said with a pained look on his face, “I had two friends jump off of bridges before. I couldn’t leave her.”

“Did either of your friends survive?”

“No.”

I could tell there was real compassion by the way he spoke. The tone of his voice and the way he looked over at her told me he truly believed she was going to kill herself and he wanted to prevent that from happening.

It made me wonder what happened with his two friends. It obviously had affected him enough to stay with the woman until we arrived.

The male didn’t want any recognition or a pat on the back. He only wanted to help another person in need. When he was done, he got on his skateboard and rode off into the fast approaching darkness. When I left, I was glad I got to see a random act of kindness.

With all of the negativity in the world, it was nice to see a person doing something for a stranger in need. It might have been something small on his part, but maybe it showed the woman that there were people in the world who still cared.

Maybe that’s all the hope she needs to keep going in life.