I had the opportunity to work a six hour overtime shift Friday
afternoon. It was not an ideal time to have to work. But since I am in
the middle of planning our summer vacation to Disney World, I thought
that the extra money might come in handy. Currently, my department has very little to no overtime. The city is
in the midst of a budget crisis and employees are being let go and
furloughs are being implemented. Luckily for me, the part of town that
I work in has a few civic groups that give money to the city for the
express purpose of police overtime. J and I rode together for the
overtime and were instructed to be productive. We could run calls,
write tickets, put people in jail, just about anything to justify our
time. I like to write tickets while on overtime. It is productive and
leads to more overtime in the form of traffic court, win win. I drove us to one of my favorite ticket fishing holes and waited for
our first customer. After a brief wait, a van took the bait and made
the illegal left turn. I stopped the van and got the driver's license
and proof of insurance. Then I ran his driver's license number on the
computer and the female voice of the computer shouted "warning"! The
driver had 5 city traffic warrants and two more traffic warrants from
another jurisdiction. I confirmed all of the warrants and wrote the
new ticket. After the driver signed the ticket, J took him into
custody. Since it was a work van, the driver wanted to call his boss
to come pick up the van rather than having it towed to a storage lot.
We allowed him to do that and then waited for his boss to arrive.
After allowing the boss to drive off in the van, we took the driver to
jail. It was a good start to our productive shift. We made four more uneventful traffic stops, just adding to our ticket
total for the shift. Our last stop of the shift turned out to be best.
It was getting close to the end of the shift, and I asked J if he was
ready to shut it down, or if he wanted to do one more stop. He said
one more, and about a minute later, a large Ford SUV made the illegal
turn. I activated the lights and the SUV pulled over to the right. I
got out and approached the driver's side window while J went up to the
passenger side window. When I saw the driver, I was mentally startled. Even though it is not
that uncommon in the area of town in which I work, I will never get
used to seeing a large male dressed as a female. I asked for his/her
driver's license and proof of insurance and after getting those
documents, returned to the patrol vehicle. Once we were sitting in the
patrol vehicle, J looks at me and says, "What in the hell is that?" I
said, "A six foot tall, bald, 200 pound, 48 year old male, dressed in
drag." Complete with panty hose, a skirt, blouse, make-up, painted
nails, rings, bracelets, purse, and wig. The whole 9 yards. The only
thing not feminine besides the huge hands and adam's apple was the
voice, very deep. It made for a very strange combination. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him: 1. Why?
2. Did you just wake up one day and say, "I want to dress like a female?"
3. Why?
4. Do your family, friends, and co-workers know that you dress in drag?
5. Why?
6. Where do you buy clothes?
7. Why?
8. When you are buying clothes, how do you buy the correct size? It is
not like you can try on the clothes. Do you just tell the clerk, my
wife is about my size?
9. Why?
10. Do they sell women's shoes that big?
11. Why?
12. Did you try out for the Coach Beast role on Glee? It was very odd. I wrote the ticket and he signed the ticket. I
managed to keep a straight face even though J was trying to make me
laugh while I was dealing with the driver. It was an entertaining end
to the shift.
afternoon. It was not an ideal time to have to work. But since I am in
the middle of planning our summer vacation to Disney World, I thought
that the extra money might come in handy. Currently, my department has very little to no overtime. The city is
in the midst of a budget crisis and employees are being let go and
furloughs are being implemented. Luckily for me, the part of town that
I work in has a few civic groups that give money to the city for the
express purpose of police overtime. J and I rode together for the
overtime and were instructed to be productive. We could run calls,
write tickets, put people in jail, just about anything to justify our
time. I like to write tickets while on overtime. It is productive and
leads to more overtime in the form of traffic court, win win. I drove us to one of my favorite ticket fishing holes and waited for
our first customer. After a brief wait, a van took the bait and made
the illegal left turn. I stopped the van and got the driver's license
and proof of insurance. Then I ran his driver's license number on the
computer and the female voice of the computer shouted "warning"! The
driver had 5 city traffic warrants and two more traffic warrants from
another jurisdiction. I confirmed all of the warrants and wrote the
new ticket. After the driver signed the ticket, J took him into
custody. Since it was a work van, the driver wanted to call his boss
to come pick up the van rather than having it towed to a storage lot.
We allowed him to do that and then waited for his boss to arrive.
After allowing the boss to drive off in the van, we took the driver to
jail. It was a good start to our productive shift. We made four more uneventful traffic stops, just adding to our ticket
total for the shift. Our last stop of the shift turned out to be best.
It was getting close to the end of the shift, and I asked J if he was
ready to shut it down, or if he wanted to do one more stop. He said
one more, and about a minute later, a large Ford SUV made the illegal
turn. I activated the lights and the SUV pulled over to the right. I
got out and approached the driver's side window while J went up to the
passenger side window. When I saw the driver, I was mentally startled. Even though it is not
that uncommon in the area of town in which I work, I will never get
used to seeing a large male dressed as a female. I asked for his/her
driver's license and proof of insurance and after getting those
documents, returned to the patrol vehicle. Once we were sitting in the
patrol vehicle, J looks at me and says, "What in the hell is that?" I
said, "A six foot tall, bald, 200 pound, 48 year old male, dressed in
drag." Complete with panty hose, a skirt, blouse, make-up, painted
nails, rings, bracelets, purse, and wig. The whole 9 yards. The only
thing not feminine besides the huge hands and adam's apple was the
voice, very deep. It made for a very strange combination. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him: 1. Why?
2. Did you just wake up one day and say, "I want to dress like a female?"
3. Why?
4. Do your family, friends, and co-workers know that you dress in drag?
5. Why?
6. Where do you buy clothes?
7. Why?
8. When you are buying clothes, how do you buy the correct size? It is
not like you can try on the clothes. Do you just tell the clerk, my
wife is about my size?
9. Why?
10. Do they sell women's shoes that big?
11. Why?
12. Did you try out for the Coach Beast role on Glee? It was very odd. I wrote the ticket and he signed the ticket. I
managed to keep a straight face even though J was trying to make me
laugh while I was dealing with the driver. It was an entertaining end
to the shift.
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