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i guess i could divulge some of the things i've pretty much sheltered from the general public.

let's start with some traffic stop stories. i worked traffic for several years in a camaro. space was really limited and it only had one seat, but i was the envy of the department. since i didn't answer calls, i had a lot of 'alone' time, and bad things had a tendency to happen to me. fortunately for me, my colleagues didn't get to take advantage of my misfortunes because of my "alone" time and my discretion in what i said.

construction had most of the road shut down. a two lane access road runs along side the highway. problem is, the access road dead ended into a river. cars would cut the shoulder and wind up doing circles in the neighborhoods. this brought in a lot of complaints. so i took it as my job to serve and protect. i sat hidden away waiting for people to bust the shoulder to get on the access road and out of the traffic. i saw a car make that fateful turn. i went up to block the little path that had now been worn down. to my surprise, 3 vehicles tried to make it and i was determined to get all 3. i was calling out on the stops, getting out of the car, and motioning all 3 drivers to stop. problem was the car had a console shifter and i hadn't gotten used to it from the crown vics. putting it in park seemed to have been of a low priority at the time. i remember hanging on to the radio mic as the car started rolling forward. unfortunately, that radio cord wasn't enough to wrangle the car back in. i chased it down, put it in park, and wrote my 3 tickets. i'm sure a freeway packed full of cars had a good laugh at my expense.

i stopped one car on the highway. the car pulled off to the side, and as usual, i pulled off into ditch to get well out of traffic. when i went to make the contact, i couldn't believe how muddy the ground seemed. it was just super soft. while i'm standing on the passenger side of my car writing the ticket, i start feeling movement in my pants. the worst was yet to come. i stomped my feet thinking i'd shake those pesky ants off. well, it didn't work, but once i've got the ticket entered into the computer, there's no turning back. i walk up to get the driver to sign it and that's when the crawling turns to bites. i start slapping at my legs around my knees, and i'm slowly working that up into the unknown. at this point i was dying and genius was one of those types that has to read his citation. i got my signed copy back and made a beeline to my car. i opened up the passenger side of my car and rolled my pants legs up as high as i could turning my legs into an ant graveyard. some scouts seemed to have made it up into the boxers that i had on and things were not looking good. i jumped into my car and headed for the office. i'm sure those people i passed on the way thought they were seeing their police in action on the way to handle some emergency. the only emergency were the ants in my pants. i stripped down at the office, which takes a good 10 minutes in full duty gear, and finally got the relief i was looking for. it was a horrible day. i'm itching just thinking about it.

i stopped a guy for running a pretty good speed. i even remember the car; an early 90s blue camaro. the guy was being a thug so there was no way he was getting out of it. i got out to issue him his ticket and damned if my finger didn't take it's sweet time getting out of the car and not make it out before the door closed. if you have to open the door before you can remove your finger, it is not a good thing. i got back in the car, turned off the mic box on my belt so the camera wouldn't pick it up, and said a few words that would have embarrassed the devil himself. when i got done, my throbbing, swelling finger and i went back to try and issue the ticket again. i'm sure the guy thought i was being sentimental over his citation; why else would i be tearing up right? when i got back to the car, i couldn't help but notice that my blue finger was the same color as the blue car i was in.

i was shooting laser on the highway up against the cement median divider. i saw this little punk kid in his ricer moving pretty good and got him at a good enough speed that i was getting ready to go get him. that's when i saw it. a blue Z06 corvette hammered the throttle. i clocked him all the way up to 105mph. well i'm certainly not going to pass that up. i get the guy stopped and it's an older guy in his late 50s, early 60s. i have him get out and walk back to the passenger side of my car. i asked, "what was that all about?" he said the punk ricer kid had been trying to get him to race for the last several miles and was starting to annoy he and his wife, who were just out on their leisurely cruise. he said he'd finally had enough and just punched it to show the kid he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. the guy looked at me and said, "my wife told me i was going to get a ticket." i looked at the guy and smiled. i said, "you go back and tell your wife that for once in her life, she's going to have to admit she was wrong." i sent him home with a warning. i don't know who got more out of that, he or i.

and here's a coule quick patrol stories...

another officer and i get called on a burglar alarm. we find a back gate that's unlocked so we figure we can make sure the back doors are secured. the officer and i creep back with pepper spray in hand waiting for that massive dog we always anticipate will be lurking around the corner. as we go back, we're seeing big dog toys, and a huge dog bowl, but no dog. we open a shed that's in the back. it has one of those little latches on it that you can put a padlock on, but no lock. everything looked cool, so the officer goes around to the back of the shed. i start to walk around to the other side of this back yard. knowing that the officeris deathly afraid of big dogs, i make a "pssssss" pepper spray sound with my mouth and yell, "there's a dog! run!" the officer runs his ass into that shed and shut the door behind him. way to look out for your partner. i flipped the latch and locked him in that shed while i laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

one officer and i got dispatched to meet with a relative who hadn't been able to get in touch with her elderly grandmother. 'a dreaded death call' i thought to myself, but lucky for me, not my district. i meet the officer and the family member at the house. we walk around and there's a light and a tv on in the living room; not a good sign. the relative let's us in and we have her stay outside because we're expecting the worst at this point. the other officer motions for me to go in first. i look at him and proudly proclaim that it's not my district. so he goes in first and we walk toward the living room. that's when we got that sinking feeling. there she was, lying on the couch, covered up facing the back of the couch. the other officer looks at me and i again remind him, "your district." he walks up to her and tries to get her attention. "ma'am. police department. ma'am." no response. he reaches out to touch her. no sooner than his hand landed on her shoulder did she jump up and say, "what the hell do you want?" we screamed like two little girls on a roller coaster. apparently she was just a grumpy old lady and didn't want to be bothered by her family, or anyone else for that matter.

to be continued...