Golf and Did he really just say that?

Terry, my Dad, and I went to Southwyck to play golf Tuesday morning. It was a cool and breezy morning. There were quite a few players on the course but the pace of play was steady. After a quick front nine, we found ourselves on the tenth tee. I hit first and promptly put one in a back yard. It was my first bad swing of the day. As I went back to the cart to get another ball, Terry and my Dad hit their tee shots. Terry's followed mine and Dad hit it right down the middle.

It was my turn to hit another tee shot. I was a little upset by the first shot, so I swung about as hard as possible at this one. I crushed it over the right side fairway bunker and had a little less than 75 yards to the green. Terry hit his second shot towards the green. Dad was about 140 yards out and he hit a nice shot to the middle of the green. I had walked up to my ball and Dad had the cart. As I was getting ready to hit my shot, the group behind us decided to hit their tee shots. Two of their shots rolled past where Dad was in the fairway and stopped before reaching me. I played my shot onto the green without noticing their balls. As Dad drove towards the green he noticed the two balls in the fairway. He had not seen them roll past him. He thought that someone had just left two balls in the fairway so he picked them up. When he got to the green and told me about them, I said that they were probably from the group behind us. They had hit too early and had hit into us was my guess.

We putted out on the green and started walking back to the carts. That was when one of the guys in the group behind us walked up and asked if we had seen any balls in the fairway. I said under my breath, "here we go." Dad said that he had seen the balls and that he had picked them up. He took them out of the cart, threw them back towards the male, and said in a reasonable tone, "don't hit into us again." This was a polite response. Hitting golf balls into the group in front of you is dangerous. Dad has been hit before. The male immediately said in a very aggressive manner, "F*** you" to my Dad. Not sorry for hitting into you, not you didn't have to do that, not thanks for returning the balls, but f*** you.

To set the scene, the male was probably in his 50's, about 5'10" and 175 pounds. He looked to be in decent shape. I am 6' and 205 pounds and look to be in better shape than I am, and my Dad is 6' and a few more pounds. For the male to see us and immediately jump to f*** you, I was amazed. I started walking towards him. I wanted to be between him and my Dad. I told him to pick up his balls and walk away. He stared at me for a few seconds and I moved a few steps closer to him, we were about 10 yards apart at that point. I waved my hand at him to back away and he did, telling us to mind our own business and go play. I said "your welcome" and walked back to the cart.

As we were about to drive off, one of his playing partners drove up and apologized. He had hit first and had not realized with the wind that he could hit it that far and he had not seen us. He apologized a few more times and we left it at that.

After the incident as Terry and I were talking about it, he was amazed at how quickly the male had jumped to f*** you. I was as well. He had no idea who he was talking to. Saying that does not leave anywhere to back down. It was an immediate and unnecessary escalation of the incident. It is easy to imagine someone else in my shoes walking up to the male and knocking him out for saying that. The last thing I wanted was a physical confrontation, but when those are the first words, a physical confrontation is a definite possibility. Thankfully it did not come to that. We made it the rest of the way around the course without further incident. I ended up playing rather well. Maybe a little adrenaline dump in the middle of the round is a good thing?

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Nervous nelly

So far this has been a very boring week at work. Mostly property crime reports and a few traffic stops is all that we have come across. C is in his third week of phase three training and doing very well despite the fact that he is a Sooner. Our first traffic stop tonight turned out to be a good training experience.

We had just parked in the gas station parking lot at our customary intersection watching for someone to make an illegal left turn. C had not even turned off the headlights when a silver Cadillac made an illegal left turn. We stopped him a few blocks away and noticed very quickly that the driver, K, was very nervous. Some drivers show a few signs of nervousness just because they do not deal with the police very often. However, this guy was off the charts nervous. That usually means that he has outstanding warrants or is in possession of something that he does not want us to find. In this case, it turned out to be both.

C ran his name through the computer and he came back with warrants out of the city and two other agencies for traffic violations. After we confirmed that the warrants with a few phone calls, we went back up to the Cadillac and asked K to step out of the vehicle. He immediately asked if this was because of the warrants. Yes sir, it is. He was very cooperative and after cuffing and searching, C put him in the back seat of the patrol vehicle. I asked K if there was anything in his vehicle that he would not want us to find. He said no. C started "inventorying" the vehicle for the tow slip and immediately found two marijuana pipes. I am not sure about you, but I thought that those would qualify as something that I would not want the police to find.

Even though the pipes had been used to smoke marijuana and had trace amounts of the drug in the pipe, all we could charge K with was possession of drug paraphernalia, a class C misdemeanor, like a traffic ticket. The district attorney's office decided to not file any more "trace" cases for possession. That means if you have a crack pipe or marijuana pipe, your pipe gets confiscated and you get a ticket. So, the users will buy the drugs and smoke them immediately to reduce the chance that they will be found to be in possession of the drug.

Usually for a ticket, all that is required is to fill out the ticket and then complete a racial data form on the computer. But, since this involved a pipe, C had to fill out the ticket, take K to jail for the warrants, take the pipes to the narcotics division, fill out the evidence paperwork, and then write a report since we had to tag evidence. All of that work for a ticket. At least it was a new experience for C, and that makes for a good training call.

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Not at all what I expected

The night was going very smoothly for a Friday. We got our two report calls, a theft, and a burglary of a motor vehicle. Then it was time for traffic. Four stops later, four citations, and eight violations and it was time to write our reports. In the middle of our report writing, a call dropped and another unit was dispatched. The call was a person down in a vehicle. That usually means someone that has had too much to drink. They start to drive, realize they are drunk and pull over somewhere to sleep it off. I knew that the dispatched unit was meeting someone for dinner at that time, so I volunteered to run the call for her. I had no idea what I was getting us into.

We arrived on the scene to find an ambulance, a squad (specialized EMTs), and a fellow officer. Turns out that a wrecker driver was driving through the area and noticed a male leaning in through the window of a parked vehicle. That vehicle was parked haphazardly, close to the road in an apartment complex parking lot. The wrecker driver made the block and the male was gone from the window, but the male in the car was slumped over. The wrecker driver was concerned for the driver's well being or he just really wanted a tow and called the police.

The ambulance arrived to find the male, N, passed out behind then wheel. The vehicle was running and it was in park. They began to try to wake up N. After some effort, they were able to wake him up and get him standing. At that point, a fellow officer arrived. After a quick evaluation, he believed that N was intoxicated and placed him under arrest for public intoxication. While searching N incident to the arrest, the officer found a small baggie of cocaine in N's pocket. That fact alone completely changed the course of events to come, but that was only the beginning.

Now that N was going to jail, we had to do an inventory of his vehicle since it was going to be towed from the scene. Inside the vehicle we found a small pharmacy. N was in possession of Marijuana, Ecstasy, Xanax, and Hydrocodone. He had a crack pipe, Marijuana pipe, scale, hypodermic needle, and other drug paraphernalia. All of this was found in the driver's side door pocket. The rest of the vehicle was a complete disaster. There was trash and clothes and food everywhere. The car smelled strongly of body odor with a hint of death thrown in. We popped the trunk, and found the cause of the death smell. N had the carcass of a dead animal in the trunk of his vehicle. When I asked him why and what it was, N said that it was a small deer and that he was a taxidermist by trade. A little weird.

Then we tried to figure out just who N was. He did not have any form of identification in his possession. N told us his name, but he kept saying that he was born in 1952 when he looked to be about 30 years old. Usually when someone lies about their name or date of birth to us, they have an outstanding warrant. After five officers tried, P was finally able to get a real date of birth from N. After running him on the computer, we found out that he had an outstanding felony warrant for possession of a controlled substance (shocker) from a nearby county. Wonderful. That meant that we had to take him to the criminal courts building to have him warned by a magistrate before we could take him to jail. I sent off the warrant information to the dispatcher and she confirmed the warrant.

Then things went from bad to worse. N said that he wanted to kill himself and that he needed to go to a psychiatric hospital. And the hits just keep on coming. So, luckily for my rookie and I, AR came by and helped us. She took the drugs to the narcotics division to weigh and tag into evidence. Then she entered the charges for us. That saved my rookie about 3 hours of work. Other officers helped as well, it was a team effort.

After N's car was towed, we left the scene and took N to have him warned. N was very rude to the magistrate. He was cycling. Up and down. He would be polite and then freak out. The magistrate got the freak out. N said later that he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and that he had been off of his prescribed medications for years. The self-medicating was not going so well. We then took him to the psychiatric center where he was evaluated by a doctor. The doctor released him the psychiatric unit of the county jail. N was down again and started talking about wanting to die and trying to bang his head. So, I made a deal with him. I told him that if he calmed down and did not bang his head on the way to the jail (10 minute drive) I would call his mother and he could talk to her. N had been requesting to talk to her because he wanted to tell her goodbye. N thought that he was going to prison for at least 10 years. N was calm on the drive and I let him talk to his wife (his mother did not answer the phone). His wife was not very understanding (who could blame her?). She said that she was tired of it all and that he had been gone from the house for a few days. She seemed more concerned with the car which was her means of transportation.

The booking process at the county jail is not very streamlined for non-county officers. Luckily, the deputies were very cool and helpful and made the 2 hours that we were there enjoyable. I sent C to the patrol car to start on the report and talked to the deputies while we were waiting for the district attorney's office to approve the charges. Once that was done, we left the county jail and went to finish the report. We finally finished everything about 4 hours after the end our shift. C did a great job on the report and everything else. It was an overwhelming scene for a rookie. It turned out to be a great training call and a little overtime every now and then is not a bad thing.

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A special place in Hell

C and I were dispatched to a theft delayed report call tonight. We arrived at a very nice retirement village. We found the correct apartment and the door was answered by a very nice lady. The lady is 87 years old. She has a bit of a difficult time getting around and uses a cane. Her mind is very sharp. Her husband died 5 years ago. He served in WW2. They had enjoyed over 60 years of marriage together. Her apartment is decorated with photos of her kids and grandkids.

Earlier in the day, she went to the post office to mail a package. She said that ever since she started using the cane, people seem to be very helpful. They hold doors for her and do other simple kind things. As she was waiting in a long line at the post office, a young man told her that he would keep her place in line and that she could go sit in some nearby chairs. She thought that was nice and went to sit down. When she sat down, she sat her purse down on a table next to her. The male in line kept up a conversation with her, distracting her. While she was talking to him another male that was sitting nearby, used that distraction to grab her wallet out of her purse. He opened it, took some things out, and then returned the wallet to her purse. The male standing in line reached the front and she got up and mailed her package. Afterwards she thanked him for the help.

She then went on to the beauty salon because she had a hair appointment. At the salon is where she realized what had happened. The male did not take her money or her credit cards. She would have realized that at the post office. You see, a few years ago due to arthritis she had to stop wearing her rings. She did not like leaving them in her apartment and liked having them with her. So she kept them in a small pocket of her wallet. The male in the post office found that pocket. He stole 5 rings and a watch out of her wallet. One of the rings was her wedding ring. Another was an antique ring that her husband had purchased for her 56 years ago.

She lost her husband 5 years ago and now she has lost the rings that he gave her. She was understandably devastated. I thought that she held things together remarkably well while we were there. At the end of our conversation she talked about her faith. She talked about how thankful she was to get the time that she had with her husband and her rings. Her reaction was a testament to her faith.

While at work I hear a lot of stories and see a lot of things. Very little bothers me. I detach myself from the stories and events so that I can do my job. However, her story bothered me. As soon as I walked into her apartment, I thought of Nana, Jen's grandmother. It was downright erie all of the similarities. I pictured Nana being the one that had been taken advantage of. Unfortunately, all it did was make me mad. I wish I had been able to find the two pricks that took her rings. I wanted to be able to make everything right for her and to find her rings. All I was able to do was to make sure that C got all of the information that we could from her in hopes that an investigator might get lucky. Sometimes there is not justice here on earth, but I sure hope there is a special place in Hell for those that take advantage of the elderly.

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Not a funny joke

Last night, C and I made our usual stop at the local Stop-N-Rob to use the restroom and to grab a fountain drink. While we were there, an older doctor wearing a white coat and scrubs walked in. He walked over to us and had a conspiratorial look on his face. It was like we area all supposed to be in on something, but C and I did not have any idea what that might be. The doctor then made a show of looking all around us, seeing who was nearby. When he was satisfied, he leaned toward us and began telling us a joke in a whisper. He is what he said.

"There is a black man, a hispanic man, and a Cuban man all riding in a car. Who is driving the car?"
Followed by the punch line.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
"HPD"

At that point, C and I looked around to see if anyone else might have heard the good doctor's attempt at humor. When we were satisfied that no one was around, we breathed again and gave a small nervous chuckle. I have a fairly liberal sense of humor and can find humor in things that most people do not find funny. But, listening to a racist joke while in uniform in a convenience store is not real healthy for the career. We then quickly disengaged and left the store. You just never know what someone is going to say to you.

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Risk vs Reward

Last night, four young males made decisions that will effect them for the rest of their lives. The decisions were mind-blowing, at least to me, when put into the perspective of the big picture. They started out by deciding to get high on crack. Because you know, crack actually improves the quality of cognitive thinking. It says so on the packaging. While high on crack, they grabbed a couple of Airsoft guns. These guns look real, but they do not shoot real bullets. They shoot small pellets. When an Airsoft gun is stuck in your face and someone is yelling at you, you are going to think it is a real gun. Then they decided to drive around looking for businesses to rob.

They started with a cafeteria. Two of them ran inside with hooded sweatshirts on and Airsoft guns out. They stuck the guns in two females employee's faces and yelled at them to give them all of the money. They were bouncing all around and were not very patient. Luckily for the employees, the males just grabbed the cash register off of the counter and ran out of the cafeteria.

They ran back to their vehicle where the two other males were waiting. They drove off and decided to rob a restaurant next. After that was a coffee shop. Each time brandishing the Airsoft guns and scaring people to death. Fortunately, we were able to get quite a few units in the area quickly. One of them was in the right place at the right time. They were flagged down by someone that was in the coffee shop during the robbery. That person gave the unit a description of the vehicle and pointed them in the right direction. That unit found the robbers driving in their vehicle and initiated a traffic stop. Surprisingly, the robbers pulled over, other units got there quickly, and they were all arrested without incident. A cash register, tip jar, and two Airsoft guns were recovered. Now they are all facing 1st degree felony aggravated robbery charges punishable by up to life in prison.

Sometimes people make bad decisions. Not everyone has a good childhood or a supportive family. Times are tough and people need to feed their families. Jobs are hard to come by. I understand all of that. But I do not understand how you can risk LIFE in prison for a tip jar from a coffee shop or a register from a cafeteria? At some point, risk vs reward has to go through your mind. Are things really that bad to make it worth it? Or, was it just for fun? Whichever the case, they will have a lot of time to think about it.

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Okies and alcohol

I was assigned a new rookie, C, last Tuesday. He is in third phase, which is good for me. That means that he has some idea of what is going on. After roll call, we went to the parking garage and loaded up my stuff and then we went to his truck. On the back window in large white letters was an OU sticker. I immediately told him that we were going to have to do something about that sticker. He said that he had seen the UT sticker on my car and knew that there would be a problem once I saw his truck. Turns out that C graduated from OU last May. His father retired from our department a short time ago after 27 years of service. C seems to have a good head on his shoulders and is a quick learner, despite the fact that he is a Sooner.

Our first few nights together were very uneventful. We spent some of the time talking about football. Imagine that. Last night got a little more interesting. We had just left a loud noise call when we saw a green SUV driving with a flat back tire. It was obvious from the condition of the tire and wheel that he had been driving on it for quite some time. That usually means that the driver is intoxicated. That held true this time as well. After we stopped the SUV, a cab stopped and the driver told us that he had tried to help our driver. He saw him drive his SUV into a ditch and then pass out. The cab driver tried to take his keys, but was not successful. The driver woke up, drove off, and then slammed into a curb which is what popped the tire. The driver was too drunk to answer questions, could not get his wallet out of his pocket, and definitely could not stand up. We called for a DWI unit to come to the scene.

The first DWI unit that was enroute to us observed a truck driving erratically on the freeway. The DWI unit tried to stop the truck and the truck fled from the officer. The truck then went out of control, slammed into a wall, flipped over and caught on fire. The driver escaped from the burning truck and then tried to fight with the officers. Turns out that while on the freeway, he had hit an off duty officer's vehicle and tried to get away. Needless to say, that DWI unit did not make it to us to take our drunk. His dispatcher was kind enough to find us another unit to take our drunk.

That brings us to tonight. Right after roll call, we checked by on an accident on the freeway. A driver that left the scene, had caused two accidents. One was a four car and the other was a two car. When we arrived, there were cars and debris all over the freeway. The driver that left the scene had apparently been driving almost perpendicular to the traffic on the freeway. He came across the freeway and was clipped by a Camry. This sent him into the passenger side of a BMW. Then he hit the gas, made a u-turn and slammed into the driver's door of a Mercedes Benz. This is all on a Saturday night on the freeway when everyone is driving at least 60 mph. After hearing what that driver had done, it was amazing that no one was seriously injured. Another officer handled the two car accident and C took care of the four vehicle FSGI accident.

After leaving that scene, as we were heading to complete the accident report, we rolled up on another major accident. A drunk driver had run a red light and hit another vehicle almost head-on. Luckily for C, another unit was already on the scene and took care of that accident report. We just provided traffic control. Afterwords, C said that after dealing with so many drunk people in just one week on night shift, he understood what they might have been thinking when they instituted prohibition.

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Just Dance

Download now or watch on posterous

IMG_0344.MOV (5312 KB)

Jen and Mary had way too much fun playing Just Dance last night. A1 and H got into it as well. A2 started fast, but by this time had faded and was ready for a movie.

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Little leaguers teach me a lesson

Occasionally on the news there are stories involving Little League parents or coaches that just completely lose it. The parents get into a fight or the coach hits the umpire or some other completely inappropriate behavior transpires at a kid's sporting event. The adults end up acting much worse than their kids and set an example for exactly how not to act. When watching those stories, I have always wondered how things could get so out of hand at a Little League baseball game. How can the adults completely lose sight of the spirit of the game? Then I became a Little League parent. I do not condone the behavior of the adults in those stories, but I can now understand a little better what those adults might have been experiencing before losing it.

Because of my career choice, I have been in some stressful situations. That is the nature of my job. It is not always stressful and there is some downtime, but you never know when you might be making a life or death decision. High speed chases and physical confrontations are stress inducing, but they have nothing on watching your child step into the batter's box. At times it is hard for me to watch. With every ounce of my being I want A1 to get a hit and to get on base. When he makes an out and I see the disappointment on his face, it just crushes me. A nine year old does not understand that baseball is a game of failure. If you fail only 7 out of every 10 times at the plate, you can make millions of dollars in the Major Leagues. That fact does not comfort A1 after he makes an out.

A1 is in his fourth year of Little League baseball, AAA kid pitch. The first two years, his teams were not great, but the coach had a positive attitude and the kids all had fun. Last year, the team never gelled and never played together as a team. It was not a positive experience. This year, the team seems like they are playing together and want to win for each other. They started the season on a winning streak, but have lost their last two games. The last game was an especially tough loss, on the parents.

Last Tuesday, A1's team, the Hotrods played the Riverdogs. The Hotrods got off to a good start and scored 4 runs in the top of the first inning. The Riverdogs responded with 3 runs in their half of the inning. A1 was the first batter in the top half of the second inning. The first pitch was called a strike and A1 made a good swing at the second pitch but came up empty. The third pitch was far enough outside that the catcher had to slide over to make the catch, and the umpire called it a strike. I was beside myself. A1 made the right choice by not swinging at the bad pitch, only to have it called strike three. Instantly A1 was frustrated and felt like he could not hit the ball. I walked over to the dugout to try to cheer him up, but he was really frustrated. I reminded him that he can hit the ball at practice and in the driveway. He felt like a failure and was not confident in his abilities.

The game continued and the umpire continued to make bad calls, at least from the Hotrods perspective. It seemed like the umpire was a family member of the Riverdogs. The more calls that went against the Hotrods, the more frustrated the Hotrod parents and coaches became. Parents started complaining a little more vocally to the umpire. After one particularly horrendous call that went against us, we let the umpire know just how bad that call was. I did not hear any profanities, but it was not constructive criticism either. At that point, the umpire walked over toward our bleachers and threatened to throw us all out of the stands. All that did was fire us up a little more. Even my mild mannered wife was getting into it a little bit.

The game continued. The Hotrods came back and were close tying the game, when the umpire made yet another horrible call handing the game to the Riverdogs. The parents were pissed. The coaches were frustrated. Fortunately, no one completely freaked out, but the possibility was there. Then I looked at the kids. Sure, they looked a little disappointed at first, but then they got in line to shake the other teams hand. After they shook hands, they all ran back to the dugout with smiles on their faces. In the span of two minutes, they had all put the loss behind them. The parents and coaches were still complaining about the calls and the umpire. The kids were playing around and looking forward to the snacks that they were about to eat. It reminded me that it is only a game, even though they keep score. By watching them, it helped me to put the game back into the proper perspective. Now comes the hard part, remembering that the next time the calls go against us.

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A child is born

Last week was a whirlwind for my family. On Tuesday, we all gathered for dinner. A1 had a Little League game that night and Mike and Courtney wanted to show off their new vehicle. So, my parents, Jen's parents, Courtney and Mike, and the four of us all met at Zio's for dinner. Just after the food arrived we all got a bit of a surprise. Courtney's water broke. It was baby time.

Jen and Mike went into action. Then made sure that Courtney was ok and then Jen got plastic bags and towels out of our truck and lined the front passenger seat of their new vehicle. Mike got their food to-go and drove Courtney home. They called their doctor and were instructed to go to the hospital. We all finished dinner and went to Austin's baseball game. His team won and Austin scored two runs.

I went to work and Jen put the kids to bed. I called her around 10:45 pm. She had just talked to Mike and he had told her that he would call her once the contractions got closer together. I was concerned that by that time Jen would not make it to the hospital in time for the birth. I knew that Jen wanted to be there and that Courtney wanted her there. So I called my parents and they graciously came to the house to watch the kids so that Jen was able to go to the hospital.

At work that night, I had a rookie and we had a couple of reports to write. My supervisor was kind enough to let us go by the hospital. While I was inside, the rookie wrote the reports. Right around 3:30 am, the doctor said that it was time to start pushing and that was the cue for Jim and I to leave the room. I returned to work. Beautiful baby S was born at 4:52 am. She was about 7 pounds and 19 inches.

Later that day, we all returned to the hospital to see the new addition to the family. A1 and A2 were so excited to meet their new cousin. A2 was literally vibrating she was so excited. She could not contain herself. It was really cool to see. Mike got some great video of the kids meeting S for the first time. While at the hospital, I helped Mike install the new car seat in the new vehicle. The car seat had only arrived the day before, the same day they picked up the new vehicle. S knew it was ok to come, she now had a way to get home.

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I lost it again

My next rookie has not yet made it to night shift, so I was by myself last night. What usually happens when I am by myself is I get a call that would be a great training call like a four vehicle major accident, a natural DOA, or a domestic violence arrest. Last night was no exception.

I was dispatched to a CIT Disturbance. CIT stand for Crisis Intervention Team. CIT is added to the call slip when the call taker or dispatcher thinks that a person in crisis (crazy) might be involved in the call. The call slip said that a male had locked himself in the bathroom and might have a knife and might be trying to hurt himself. His girlfriend had called the police. She heard glass breaking from inside the locked bathroom. She also saw blood on him when he had briefly opened the door.

I arrived to find another officer outside the locked bathroom door with his taser out trying to talk to the male, G, inside the locked bathroom. The male did not respond to us. My Sergeant arrived. We explained to her what we had. A male possibly with a knife that may be trying to hurt himself locked inside a bathroom. She said that we have to check on him to make sure that he is ok. That means get inside that bathroom. I briefly thought about kicking in the door, but since it was an interior door, it was most likely hollow. A kick would just go right through the door. We used a knife to unlock the door and then pushed it in a little. This was met immediately by him pushing the door closed. We gave verbal commands and pushed a little more. G only responded by continuing to push back against the door. The other officer handed me a thin box and he wanted me to slide it in between the door and the jamb so that the door would not re-lock. We pushed the door in again, and as I was trying to slide the box in, G pushed back violently against the door. My right hand was nearly smashed between the door and the jamb. This upset me.

Now with a little adrenaline flowing and being a little upset, I slammed into the door. G had been sitting on the floor with his back against the door. He had his feet pushing against the toilet and was using his legs for leverage. When I hit the door, it completely dislodged the toilet from the floor and G flew into the bathtub. I then politely and calmly took G into custody.

It turns out that G and his girlfriend had an argument about possibly ending their relationship. G said this really frustrated him. He responded by punching out a window and locking himself in the bathroom. This was after he had destroyed the apartment. Clothes, furniture, beer cans, cigarette butts, and cat food were everywhere. The kitchen sink was clogged and filled to the rim with black water. The cat was on the counter. From just looking at the place, Jen would have had a stroke.

Three years ago G had been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder but he had been off of his medications for two years. He stopped taking his medication after a therapist told him that that doctors did not know what they were doing by prescribing him medication. A week ago, he had cut one of his wrists. He was in crisis. G needed to be evaluated by mental health professionals. I transported him to the county hospital and did an Emergency Order of Detention on G. This will allow the county to get him the help that he needs.

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I lost it

A few minutes after roll call, an evening shift training unit got on the radio and asked for a night shift unit to check by with them at Central Intox. Central Intox is where most of the driving while intoxicated offenses are processed for my department. The evening shift unit said that they were swamped with work and needed a unit to transport their prisoner to Southeast jail since it was the end of their shift. Southeast jail is where all of the females are housed and is about 13 miles from Central.

AS and I were done with evaluation, but he was still riding with me until he transferred to evening shift for his second week of evaluation. I got on the radio and volunteered to check by with the evening shift unit. We arrived at Central Intox and they were not ready for us. They said that they would be ready in 30 minutes. I wondered why they asked for a unit to check by with them when they were not yet ready for that unit? Maybe they thought it would take us awhile to get there. Who knows? We used the time to get a drink from a nearby Stop-in-Rob.

Once we returned, they were ready for us. The female prisoner that we were transporting had been charged with DWI. She had been involved in an accident. She drove her vehicle into a pole. She refused to give a breathalyzer sample. She did do a station video (the officer instructs the person to do all of the standardized field sobriety tests in a room while it is recorded). She failed all of the tests on the station video.

AS handcuffed her (policy states that everyone that gets into the backseat gets handcuffed behind their back) and put her into the backseat of our patrol vehicle. Immediately, she started complaining. This was going to be a long ride to Southeast jail. Her first complaint was that her handcuffs were too tight. I responded that the handcuffs were not designed to be comfortable. She did not appreciate my comment and stated they were chaffing her wrists and that she could feel a bruise developing. I asked AS if he had put her cuffs on tight, and he said no which is the answer that I expected. AS asked if he should check them, and I left that up to him. He did check the cuffs and loosened them a little bit. With small females this is something that you have to be careful with. She had very small wrists. The cuffs have to be tight enough so that she can not get out of them, but not so tight as to cut off circulation. I hoped that by loosening the cuffs, we would earn some peace and quiet. Nope.

Her next complaint was that she was cold. She was wearing jeans and a fancy tank-top. She was dressed to go out drinking at the nice bars in the area of town in which she had the accident. Drinking she did, she just did not anticipate that pole jumping out in front of her vehicle. She asked for a jacket or a blanket. We are not Continental or Southwest Airlines. We do not have blankets or pillows for our guests. As you can imagine, I was becoming less and less popular with her. AS was actually entertaining the idea of putting his personal jacket on her to keep her warm. Rookie. Next she asked us if we had her driver's license. She said that she had seen it on the desk at Intox. I told her that we did not have her license. When she refused to give the breathalyzer sample, she forfeited her license. She was told this at the time, but she was probably too intoxicated to remember.

She then asked where we were taking her. I told her to Southeast jail, where all females are housed. She asked where that was and we told her. She asked again where we were going. When told she asked what part of town was that? Again, we told her. After more complaining about the cold and the inhumane conditions in the backseat of our patrol vehicle, she asked where we were going again. I was starting to lose my patience. After quite a few more questions about where we were going and what part of town and what road was it on and how do you spell it and I can't hear you, I lost it. I yelled at her. I said, "WE ARE TAKING YOU TO SOUTHEAST JAIL. IT IS ON MYKAWA RD. M Y K A W A." She called me an ass, but she did not speak again the rest of the way to jail. Victory was mine.

Once at the jail, she started complaining again. The jailer dumped out her purse and started inventorying all of the contents. This included 5 prescription pill bottles. We had looked at them earlier, and all of the pills looked to be the same in each bottle. As the jailer dumped them out and started handling the medications, she said, "Do you have to touch them. You are contaminating them." At the very bottom of a bottle of over the counter ibuprofen, the jailer found two pills that did not belong with the others. The jailer found two bars of Xanax. Our female prisoner did not have a prescription for Xanax. That is possession of a controlled substance. Xanax is in penalty group 3 and possession of less than 28 grams is a Class A Misdemeanor, punishable by up to a year in jail and up to a $4000 fine. This was going to create quite a bit more work for us than just transporting her to jail. We had to modify the hold card, weigh and tag the Xanax at the Narcotics division, add another charge, and complete a supplement report. But after the joy she put us through on the drive, we rather enjoyed the extra work.

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