Happy Birthday to Me
Yesterday was my birthday so I hit the streets early to see what 'gifts' awaited me. I didn't have to wait long:
My first call was an assault at an assisted living care home. An 80 year old man accidentally ran over his neighbor's foot with his electric wheelchair. She responded by punching him in the leg. There were no visible injuries on him but something else was quite apparent. All during the conversation I was treated to a clear view of his testicle sack dangling from the open leg of his shorts. Apparently he didn't feel like wearing underwear and his fondness for small running shorts created the perfect environment for the exposure.
Next, I was directed to a stip club to take pictures of a dancer who was punched and robbed by one of her "customers" in the champagne room. I arrived and took photographs of the heavily intoxicated dancer's swollen eye as she stood in the parking lot. I was then asked to stay outside with the dancer while the rest of my squad went inside to "investigate the crime scene."
Later, my partner and I pulled over an Infinity SUV for having one of those license plate covers that reflect light (to prevent the photo-radar camera from taking a picture of the plate). These are illegal and this one was particularly bad. I couldn't even read the plate in normal daylight due to the heavy glare. A 60-something year old rich guy and his young, blonde, pregnant wife stepped out of the car and acted like they were unaware the license plate was hard to see. They took off the cover and offered to give it to me. They didn't know it was my birthday and I'm not able to accept gifts so I declined their generous offer.
It was a slow night so my sergeant offered to let me go home early to have dinner with my family. I gladly accepted this gift and headed home for the night.
Some of you have asked about the 'Baby Guy'. My friend told me about him during lunch and said he saw him a few times at the QT on Indian School and 29th St. That day, I asked my squad mates if they'd seen him and they all replied yes. It was coincidence that I took a call at the apartment complex he lives in (a girl called about committing suicide). He happened to be walking to his car when I drove into the complex. I didn't have any contact with him other than a smile. After getting management to open the door of the suicidal girl's apartment, we discovered: . . . . . . .
she wasn't home.