Wednesday, October 8, 2008

"Was he talking sh**?"

I'm waiting at a traffic light in rush hour traffic just like everyone else when a truck comes barrelling, half on the edge of the road half on the grass. He was trying to get to the right turn lane (same as I) which was a few car lengths ahead. As he goes by I remember scenes from the show Martin where he says "hold up! Hold up! Oh no you did not just...." That, and people are watching this probably thinking "well here's a cop is he going to do anything?" So I drive half into the grass to catch him. I probably would have written him a warning but he didn't have insurance. Steadfast rule, no insurance, no break. So I write him two tickets. Since cars are flying (they are supposed to slow down by law, but people are such in a hurry to get to their destination they can't be bothered to slow down for us) I can't hear his rant. All I can get is "'re just a..." and "I can't believe..." and "this is..." I chose to believe he was saying "Sir, I understand you're just a man doing his job and I can't believe I was so stupid as to do what I did in front of such a fine policeman such as yourself. This is a lesson I'll never forget!" Yeah, that's what he was saying!

This night was the national night out that got rescheduled because August was just too damn hot. To an extent, PR is necessary. That's part of why I do this blog because I want people to see things from our point of view. However it does get old after the 10th block party, forcing a smile saying the same old tired 'small talk' lines.

As I'm heading in, I stop a vehicle driving up a busy highway with no lights on. I pull him over and can tell off the bat he has no license and no identification on him. So I go about my usual routine in these cases to separate the driver and passenger and see if I get the same name and same story. Well, I get a slightly different name, but with Hispanics they usually have 4 names and the criminal element will use several variations to avoid getting caught with warrants. After over an hour I'm convinced the woman is telling the truth. Since the driver can't prove who he is, he goes to jail. I was kind of hoping he was lying to me. I got real good at the name game back in the day. Once, I had a convict with a parole warrant in my car for two hours while playing the name game. He knew that I knew he was lying, but he also knew I had to prove it before I could arrest him. He got away from another officer by sticking to his guns, but I was determined to beat him at his own game.

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