Thursday, December 18, 2008
Swing batta batta swing!
Sometimes things don't as planned. We went to a welfare check. Neighbors hadn't seen an elderly man who lives alone for months. He's kind of a hermit, no known family or friends and keeps to himself pretty much. I get there and find mail stacked in his mail box and newspapers stacked on the porch. There is a past due payment notice on his door. I've met him before. I gave him a ride home one night when his truck broke down. The last time anyone saw him, he wasn't feeling well. All the classic signs of a dead body inside the house. I check the doors and windows and they are all locked. I find a back door with frames cut into it for a window. Well, I figured breaking out one pane of glass and reaching in to unlock the door is the easiest, and less intrusive method of getting into the home. I take my baton, take aim, and whack! Nothing except a loud noise. Whack! Whack! Whack! G dammit this glass isn't breaking like it's supposed to! Plus, now I have neighbors peeking over the fence to see what the noise is. Fortunately word has spread and everyone else thinks the resident is dead inside as well. I reposition myself like Babe Ruth and take another whack at the pane. Well, instead of the single pane shattering, the entire window, all panes, shatter. Oops! Well so much for less intrusive. I clear out the glass so as not to get cut reaching in only to discover another pane! Oh damn! Storm door! Well, I've come this far. I finally shatter the second pane and open the door. A rotten smell drifts outward. I'm sure of it, someone is dead inside here. We go inside, announce ourselves as police and look at all the trash. There were literally hundreds of liquor bottles, beer cases, soda cans, food containers still half full littered everywhere. It was impossible to even walk in the kitchen. It was covered in litter about four feet high. We check the house, nobody. Literally I mean nobody. I did find some sh** stained paints and underwear and a clump of human hair in a sink. Well, only God knows where he is. So all I can do now is leave a case number, my name, and a claims form to replace the door that I broke and write a nice report explaining why I destroyed a thousand dollar door. Oh well, if/when he comes home and finds his door destroyed hopefully he will be understanding.