Sunday, March 05, 2006

whitie-tighties, toilet paper corsettes, major score

My job is permitting me a glimpse into another side of the city I didn't know existed.

Sure, I assumed I'd be seeing injuries, deaths, and violence but I didn't imagine that I'd be searching the dark interior of a local 'alternative' bar for witnesses to an alleged assault. As I entered the back room of men-only bar, the extreme darkness required me to use my flashlight. As I clicked on my light, I saw the common sights of busy nightclub except that the patrons were wearing underwear. Some were wearing nothing but their whitie-tighties while others accessorized their briefs with tank tops, hats, suspenders, or vests. Nobody fessed up to being a witness, and fearing I'd be mistaken for the cop in the Village People, I quickly retreated to the front door. I have nothing against alternative lifestyles and attribute my surprise to a sheltered upbringing.

On another call, we were directed to pick up a mentally ill person who expressed violent thought to her case worker over the phone. For her own safety, the police were called to deliver her to a mental care facility. When we arrived, she answered the door in pajama bottoms and an open robe. When I say 'open', I mean nothing underneath. She seemed completely unconcerned about baring herself to us as most 50+ year old overweight women would be. I was impressed by the intricate corsette she had crafted with rolled toilet paper. There were several horizontal strands of rolled T.P. around her belly and chest with vertical connecting strips. It looked like it took a great deal of time to fashion but I'm pretty certain it will not become a popular trend. Even though she was hispanic, she was fascinated with all thing 'Irish' and talked nonstop about leprochans, white-Irish, and black-Irish people, Paul McCartney, and even 'Lucky Charms' cereal. She insisted I too, was Irish and when I told her I was actually Norwegian, she replied, "Yes, Norwegian-wood Irish." I have no idea where 'wood' comes from but there was no use arguing.

Here's another tip for consideration:
If you're a convicted felon that was deported to Mexico and you decide to re-enter America illegally you probably don't want to drive your car the wrong way down a one-way street in front of Police Headquarters. After avoiding a head-on collision with our patrol car, we pulled over the above mentioned drug trafficker and were credited with capturing a high profile felon. The Border Patrol sent up some agents from Casa Grande to deport him back to Mexico. My trainer told me this type of bust is a major score.

I'm still settling in but am really enjoying my time out on the street. I have no idea what area I'll be assigned to after training (or what hours I'll be working) but I can't wait to finish the training.

4 Comments:

At March 05, 2006 9:45 PM, Anonymous gamma said...

Hey....who knew you'd get a lesson in TP fashion? Congrats on your major score. Keep it up. Mom

 
At March 06, 2006 3:11 PM, Anonymous ken chadwick said...

Gary,
Thanks for the updates. The Norwegian wood comment probably comes from the Beatles song of the same name. Having already mentioned Paul McCartney, I am sure your ethnic reference triggered the response.

Lyrics to "Norwegian Wood"
I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.//
She showed me her room, isn’t it good, norwegian wood? //
She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,//
So I looked around and I noticed there wasn’t a chair.//
I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine.//
We talked until two and then she said, it’s time for bed.//
She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.//
I told her I didn’t and crawled off to sleep in the bath.//
And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown.//
So I lit a fire, isn’t it good, norwegian wood.//

 
At March 06, 2006 6:38 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Gary,
Was that your light ? I was in CO all weekend. Keep up the blog.

 
At March 06, 2006 9:31 PM, Blogger Officer Gary said...

Thanks Ken, but your comments just freaked me out. The lady was signing the first line of that song to me about 10 times BEFORE I told her I was Norwegian. I didn't know the song and am now wondering if she is psychic.

 

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