This AMA arose out of a series.
Part 1: "Accidental Assault by *** Toy": http://imgur.com/gallery/fV4D0
Part 2: "Highway Divider of Love" http://imgur.com/gallery/k2ZWJ
Part 3: "Departing Party Hat": http://imgur.com/gallery/lMjIP
Part 4: "Larry Snickets and a Series of Retarded Events" http://imgur.com/gallery/a8SJZ
Part 5: "Marry Poppins' Magical Purse" http://imgur.com/gallery/h4BLz
Part 6: "Alcohol Fueled Anarchy" http://imgur.com/gallery/Qk5rD
Part 7: "Rainbows, Unicorn **** and Fairy Tales" http://imgur.com/gallery/M6KdQ
Part 8: "That Is Not My Fetish" http://imgur.com/gallery/f0irf
AMA part 2: http://imgur.com/gallery/wMZa9
No, being an officer wasn't always my plan. I'm actually a classically trained cellist, went to conservatory and everything.
I developed carpal tunnel in my left hand and knew I wouldn't be able to make it at a professional level. On the suggestion of a friend, I set up a ride along *with the police department.
Within 5 minutes of starting that ride along, I knew I'd found my thing. I've actually twice been offered non-police, corporate type jobs that paid double or more what I was making.
I turned them down, because I can't imagine doing anything else. It's a calling.
*Ride Along: for those unfamiliar, a Ride Along is a program that many US police departments offer, allowing interested citizens to ride for a shift with an officer to see what it's really like (after submitting a form and undergoing a short records check).
I'm located in the mid-west United States. Unfortunately that's as specific as I can get.
Wow. That's like a 47 way tie at the county one-legged ***-kicking-contest: It's a mess and nobody wins.
You have to read these in Jim Carrey's voice from Liar Liar during the traffic stop, because there's just so many. Go ahead, get into character, I'll wait: http://youtu.be/mLg3IH55rwA
Ok, everyone sufficiently prepared for the scene? Great.
-Guy calls 911 because his neighbor's dog keeps crapping in his yard. (Apparently the more expensive your house, the less you're able to actually talk to your neighbors).
-Lady called 911 because her cable went out.
-Guy called 911 because he was being jumped and beat up. This happened repeatedly over several days. Several witnesses (and eventually one officer) observed this guy kicking his own ***.
-911 calls because someone swooped in and took the gas pump/parking spot that the caller was waiting for.
-Someone called 911 once because the snow plows woke them up at 0630, and the caller wanted them to come back later.
-911 call from a HIGHLY intoxicated mother who was ****** that the babysitter she left he kids with, had split after sending a text telling the mom she needed to go. The mother was so indignant that the babysitter wouldn't finish the job after she's already paid the babysitter. How much did she pay the babysitter? All the drinks she could drink in an hour at the bar around the corner. That whole ******* family got reported for that abomination. Poor kids.
Those are just the first few off the top of my head. I might include more in the next installment.
Let me tell you the legend of Poo-Poo Picasso.
We (my partner and I) were dispatched to a Casino that's in our city, for a suspicious party (person). Security for the casino had seen this guy acting erratically, being agitated and acting odd.
About two minutes before we arrived, we get updated that Casino Security is now chasing this guy through the casino and hotel. Apparently while security was keeping an eye on him, Picasso sauntered up to the Guest Services desk and mumbled something incoherently to the nice young lady behind the desk.
While she was preoccupied with trying to decipher whatever language Picasso thought he was speaking, he unzipped his pants, whipped out his **** and started whizzing all over the marble floor of this large and busy casino lobby.
By the time we arrived, we found Picasso swimming in the fountain in front of the valet circle of the Casino. Not splashing or jumping. Swimming. Head down, stroke, stroke, breathe, stroke stroke, breathe – swimming! I guess he thought he was making his getaway by swimming away from us…in a circular fountain…that's 24 inches deep.
So Picasso goes to jail. Once we get him booked in, he's still acting erratically, shouting, cursing, making all kinds of odd noises and proclamations – this guy is ****** up. So we put him in a padded cell for his protection (so he can't hurt himself).
While we're finishing up the paperwork, we begin to hear loud groaning and moaning noises emanating from within the padded cell. Didn't really think much of it at the time, during the time we've known each other this guy has made noises that span dinosaurs to robots. Besides, he's under video/audio surveillance by dispatch and they'd let us know if he was doing anything dangerous.
We head upstairs to the Patrol offices to file our paperwork and head back out. While we're there, dispatch requests that we come to dispatch. When we get there, they tell us that Picasso is doing something odd. They say that he's been kneeling on the floor mumbling something about "Making a ******* burrito!"
I look at the screen and my first question is: "Why is he *****?"
Dispatcher replies with "Yeah, we were just getting to that, he took off his clothes…" As she was talking, I see Picasso lean over and put his head on the floor and he hands back between his knees. He then sits up and begins acting like he's finger painting.
We head downstairs to figure what the **** is going on, as we enter booking – we're hit with the overwhelming odor of feces. "No. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. ******* NOPE!" I thought.
But no amount of wishful thinking will stifle the artistic process. We rip open the door and find that Picasso had **** into his own hands and the rolled it into several different shapes that he'd arranged in the corner of his cell.
The fecal matter than he hadn't formed into earthy post-modern sculptures became paint. Paint that he used to finger-paint with on EVERY SURFACE OF THE CELL. We never did figure out what this guy was on. When he appeared in court he had no recollection of any of that night's events.
Remember kids: Sometimes taking drugs makes you feel like you're looking into the face of ***. But sometimes you're just smearing **** on the jail cell walls.
No doughnuts for me. Don't want to end up looking like Chief Wiggum. I will occasionally nom the **** out of a bagel though.
Yes, I have gotten there too late.
I was getting onto an interstate on-ramp which was elevated above another interstate. It was about 2330 hours, so it was dark. I could see a bright flickering light and smoke rising from the interstate below. Bon Fires are bad, they're especially bad when they're in the middle of a 3 lane interstate.
I circle around and head back toward where I saw the fire. As I get closer, the interstate is a parking lot, and I can see flames 15' – 20' tall. I grabbed the fire extinguisher from my car and sprinted through the stopped cars to find a crash.
A car had been travelling the wrong way on the interstate and struck another car travelling the right way. The driver of the right-way car was killed instantly, but we didn't know that until much later. Some good Samaritans had pulled the passenger from the right-way car out. She was screaming and crying, and for good reason. Her right foot was twisted around the wrong way, and barely hanging onto her leg, and her right leg was a good four five inches shorter than her left indicating a compound fracture of her femur, or something bad with her pelvis.
I ran to the wrong-way car which was completely engulfed in flames. I tried breaking the windows with my baton, which was a joke. After a few swings I switched to the fire extinguisher which quickly knocked out the windows.
I'll never forget what I saw inside. There was a person still alive- screaming, completely engulfed in flames. I remember the "whoosing" sound of the fire, and the odd effect it had on their screaming. Other officers on scene and I emptied our fire extinguishers directly onto the person, as well as the rest of the car to knock down the flames, but as soon as our extinguishers were empty, they came right back.
I resorted to trying to pry, smash, or pull the door open with my bare hands to get that person out. But the car was too twisted and crushed to get the door open. After several more long moments the screams stopped, and I remember it being just quiet. The tires and battery on the other car exploded sometime after that, but I don't remember hearing them, just the rush of air as they went off.
Other officers had been working on pulling out the other driver, but they soon discovered he was already dead too. The fire dept and EMS arrived shortly after, they got there fast too, just not fast enough.
My department sent me to see a counselor after that incident.
I will remember the sound of the screaming, and the smell – for the rest of my life.
I got an award for it too, which always seemed ******* stupid to me. Officially it was for "placing myself in harms way to aid another". I interpreted it as "Trying, but failing to save someone."
I don't wear that award on my uniform. I threw it in a drawer and haven't looked at it since.
That's it for this installment. Thanks for reading everyone.
I'll get more stories up as I get time to write them, and I'll start working on another AMA as well, so if you've got a question let me know.
Be good to one another folks. It's a crazy world out there.
And remember – we're not always your favorite people when you deal with us, but the Police in general are good people who are there to help.
Read more: http://imgur.com/gallery/IcQ83