My old car

I saw my old car the other day...

I pulled into the driveway to serve a trespass summons and there it was. The old grey mustang. It was battered, badly. I started to get out of my car when this rather large pit bull began barking wildly and running towards me. I could see that it was loosely tied to a tree and I was pretty sure it couldn't reach me. I walked past the slobbering dog to the steps of the trailer and knocked on the door.

As I waited I kept half an eye on the dog until I heard the thud thud thud of someone coming to the door. The door opened and this really overweight girl came to the door wearing a way too small pink bikini. My eyes instinctually darted away as I asked "Is your mother here?"

the girl just stared at me for what seemed like forever before looking back into the trailer and yelling "MOMMAAA, PO-LEEECE IS HERE!" The girl then disappeared into the trailer.

Finally momma comes to the door. Momma looks like an even fatter version of the girl. Momma is wearing a moo moo and missing several teeth. "Is Mr. such and such here?" I ask the woman, as I step into the trailer.

The trailer is grimy and the floor is littered with God knows what. There is some guy who looks to be in his fifties sleeping on the couch in a bundle of blankets. He looks as if he is in the process of dying.

"No sir, he lived at lot 2."

I look around and notice this is the only trailer on the property.
All I can think to say is "ummmm." as I'm still trying to get the frightening image of her daughter out of my head. Finally the woman points to a camper in the back yard. "He done been gone bout a week." She says.

"I told detective such and such that she better hurry or he'd be gone"
The detective she referred to is our sex crimes investigator and curiosity finally got the better of me.

"What was going on that you contacted her?" I ask.
The woman shoos her children away and leans in as if to tell me a secret.
"He done molested both my youngins." She says.

I try to change the subject by asking her about the car. "We bought that off'n a guy fer a thousand dollars." She says, as though it was the bargain of the century.

"Really?" I ask. "That used to be my car." I tell her.

"Yeah, she was a pretty good ole car bafore we wrecked her." The woman says while scratching in a place better not mentioned.

About this time her son, who looks to be about 7 years old, walks over to me and stands toe to toe with me. I'm not kidding this kids toes were literally touching the end of my shoes. He's staring up at me with this blank look on his face.

"How are you buddy?" I ask him. He just keeps staring, I don't think he was able to talk. I begin to feel awkward when suddenly the boy wraps both arms around my legs as tightly as he could and just buries his face into my leg. He continues to hug me for several seconds and finally lets go. Still standing toe to toe with me he looks up with this expression in his eyes, as if he is begging me to pleeeeaaaaaaase take him with me. His mother calls him back to the porch telling him that "he's lucky I didn't take him to jail fer assaultin' a officer."

The boy is still looking at me as I say "Nah, hugs aren't considered an assault. Everyone loves hugs." I wave to the woman and wish her good luck, and that I hope things work out for her.

I walk past my old car, and peek inside. The interior has been ruined and there is about a four foot deep stack of beer cans and other trash littering the floorboards and seats. The dash has been split open. And I have this strange feeling of sadness as I get back into my cruiser and pull off.

There are a lot of old memories attached to that car. My ex-wife and I picked it out about a year after we had gotten married. We drove it more than once from North Carolina to Indiana. When I was sick it took me to the hospital in Winston Salem without fail.

I picked my wife and son up from the hospital after his birth in that car. I can see them both in the car laughing and having a good time, him in the back being upset because he said he thought his "feet smelled like stinky vinegar pickles." Us sitting in the front seats laughing at him as he said that.

And it makes me sad, it was a time when things seemed new and exciting, the future was wide open with possibilities, and My son, ex-wife and I were all happy together.

Thank you sir...May I have another?

I pulled up just in time to see Tommy go into the trailer...
I parked my car along side the road and walked through the yard towards the trailer. There were five guys sitting on the steps and in the yard. They were all bleeding or had swollen eyes, one guy was holding his arm and moaning.

"You better get in there and help your partner" one of the guys says. "Jakes in there, been beating his girlfriend in the bathroom. We tried to stop him but he took us all out."

Jake must be one tough dude, I think as I enter the trailer.
The trailer stinks. There are beer cans and cigarette butts all over the floors. Some type of animal has crapped and urinated all over the carpet.

I navigate the narrow hall leading into the bathroom. I see Tommy standing in the doorway telling someone I can't see to come out and let the girl go.

I position myself so I can see what is going on without getting in the way, God this hall is narrow. In the bathroom I see a younger girl, maybe 19, standing against the wall, her head is lowered and she is holding her face.

Between her and Tommy stands Jake. He has part of the girls shirt clenched in one fist while he shakes the other at Tommy shouting profanities and telling us to get out of the house.

After talking to him for a few more seconds Tommy reaches in and grabs the guy pulling him out into the hallway and presses him against the wall with one hand. The girl sees her chance and runs from the trailer and out the door. Jake raises both fist at Tommy.

"Put your hands behind your back, you're under arrest." says Tommy.
Jake starts trying to twist free. I see Tommy unholster his tazer. I wonder if there is even enough room in the hall to taze the guy. "Put your hands behind your back." Tommy says calmly.

"Fuck you son of a bitch, fucking pig get out of my house and mind your business!" The guy yells pulling one of his fists back.

I hear a small pop followed by a sound I know all to well. cack cack cack.
The guy screams and falls to the ground kicking his legs wildly into everything in the hallway. I put one knee on the ground and the other across the guys mid section. He is laying face down screaming as I try to subdue him without getting myself tangled on the wires.

I begin telling the guy that this will last for five seconds and when it stops he needs to put his hands behind his back and calm down, but I doubt it registered with him.

After five seconds the tazer stops and I tell the again to put his hands behind his back. Instead he begins telling me he will kick our asses and he starts trying to get up.

"We will deploy the tazer again if you don't comply" I say.

"Fuck you guys!! Pussys!!!" He begins yelling.

"Give him five more." I tell Tommy.
The guy hears this and what he says goes something like this:
"Fuck you guys! Oh no Oh God I'AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

cack cack cack cack "This will last for five seconds.." cack cack cack "When it stops you need to put your hands behind your back." cack cack cack.

He screams and kicks the whole five seconds. It sounds like a tornado in the trailer. The tazer ends its cycle and the guy immediately puts his hands behind his back. We handcuff him and take him out past all the guys who had their butts kicked by this guy and put him in Tommy's cruiser. I take the appropriate pictures and Tommy carts the guy off to the stoney lonesome.

I go back towards the trailer to get some of the AFID tags from the hallway floor and everyone stares at me silently. Finally one of the guys says "Thanks a lot sir. I don't know what you guys did to him in there but it sounded like the trailer was coming apart. He was just too much for us to handle."

He follows me inside and as I begin to collect the small pieces of colored paper to enter into evidence with the tazer cartridge, he gets a worried look on his face and says "Sir I swear to God I don't know where those things came from. I can tell you their not mine though." As if I had just found a kilo of cocaine or something.

"Have a good night." I tell them. I get in my patrol car and head towards the office to help Tommy with all the paperwork and entry of evidence.

Domestic violence court

What I saw in domestic violence court this week was both interesting and disturbing.

I saw a defense attorney follow the assistant district attorney around staring at her butt and salivating. I saw a 17 year old drug addict mouth the word mother fucker to his father while his father testified against him. The kid was stoned as he stood before the judge, his eyes half closed and bloodshot. He swayed crazily and could barely stand.

I saw a 48 year old man accused of assaulting a female request a court appointed lawyer to handle his case.

"Do you work?" asked the judge

"No sir" he said to the female judge

"How do you earn your living?" she inquired.

"I live with my mom." He said. Pointing her out as she sat in the peanut gallery

"What does your mom do for a living?" she asks.

"She's disabled" He replies

I saw a rather muscular young lad plead guilty to assault inflicting serious injury, only to have the judge tell him she wouldn't accept his plea.

WTF!!!! I think to myself. The man's attorney, a crotchety old guy who got irate and yelled at me one time when I started laughing at him as he tried to intimidate me on a dwi case (which he plead his client guilty to after "talking" to me in private) was overjoyed.

I waited for an explanation as to why the judge did this after the man's tiny very pregnant wife told a story of how her "loving" husband beat her so badly she was put in I.C.U. for three days. This girl was sooooo small and he was soooooo big, she had to be at least eight months pregnant.

"I did the protective order hearing on this case a few weeks ago and I've never seen a woman that had been beaten so badly before" Says the judge. "I don't feel I can be fair and impartial in sentencing the defendant." Declares the Judge.

"WHAT !?!?!?!?" I think to myself. "finally a judge sees first hand the monstrosities these guys inflict on someone. And she found the beating so repugnant she can't fairly sentence him?" Hello structured sentencing! You can sentence him to the max, the minimum, or the middle. "SEND THAT ASS TO PRISON FOR A WHILE" I think to myself. Not even a question of guilt or innocence he told you he's guilty.

Any way the judge recuses the guilty verdict and reschedules the case to be heard by another judge.

The crotchety old lawyer salivates as he lowers his yellow smile to the defendant's ear and whispers not so quietly "you need to fight this. You'll go to prison if your found guilty. Your wife and unborn child need you."

My skin crawls because I know next time he will plea 'not guilty.'

I wonder what would be said if I refused to go to a domestic, because "I had been there before and knew that the guy always beats her into a bloody mess and I don't think I can be impartial." Maybe he has been telling the truth about her running into his fists all this time after all.

Laughing hysterically inside at this point because I figure it's better than crying.

I can hear the dispatchers talking to this woman on the phone as her husband bludgeons her with a rolling pin..."I'm sorry ma'am, we can no longer send any officers out to help you. They've all been there too many times and we have determined that they can no longer be impartial. If someone other than your husband beats you please call and we can possibly assist you. Have a nice day ma'am."

I watched as another girl (also pregnant) begged the judge to the charge against her boyfriend and lift the protective order that she had placed on him. In her purse she has pictures of her black eyes, and her back covered entirely in bruises, from where she curled up over her infant child to protect it while her "man" punched and kicked her severely in the back and ribs. The judge will never see the pictures though, because she agrees to dismiss the criminal charge and lift the protective order.

The girls boyfriend stands behind the defendants table with his mouth gaping open and his tongue lazily hanging halfway down to his chin. I notice he is drooling slightly. He looks about as smart as a retarded tree sloth.

They leave the court room together. About 20 seconds later the sloth and his babies mommas momma are drug back into the court room by two bailiffs. It seems babies mommas momma was none to happy about this guy getting away with beating her daughter and commenced to layeth the smack down on sloth boy in the lobby. The judge lets the sloth go and sternly shakes her finger at babies mommas momma and lets her go as well.

The judge calls a ten minute recess. I go down stairs to stretch my legs. I see a long haired, face and neck tattooed freak from court who just had a protective issue ordered against him standing at the magistrates door. I don't know what he's up to but I' sure it involves some retaliatory abuse of the system. I try to get away before he can corner me and ask me some stupid question or tell me how I can help him. I'm too slow, crap, here he comes.

"Hey man." he says as he approaches me.

"Man?" I think. "since when am I this guys drinking buddy. In the words of the famous luda "git back! git back! You don't know me like that!" I think. I smile inside. I'm due back in court in like two minutes.

"My wife just took a protective order out against me. She stole my xanax like two months ago. I tried to get a warrant but the magistrate said I had to talk to an officer and have it investigated"

His mommy is with him. He's a grown man and his mommy has to come to court with him.

"Well" says I "If you go to that window over there and tell that woman what you need someone will come to help you. I have to get back to court." I finish.

"k" he says as he and his mommy slime off and around the corner. I go back to court and sit for three more hours watching the idiocy and drama play out. I watch a woman argue with her husband about what they were arguing about the fifteenth of the prior month, in open court. The peanut gallery is laughing at the couple. Every one but them can see how ridiculous they are.

finally the A.D.A. tells me they will have to reschedule my case. They put it on a day I work night shift. "Buety" I think.

I make my get away as the judge and A.D.A. apologize for making me sit in court for the last six hours. At least the court room is air conditioned I think as I leave.

I get to my car and before I can leave I catch the eye of a guy I can only describe as a maggot. He is obviously irate over some form of perceived injustice. He strides over aggressively. Fists balled, chest sticking out, brow furrowed to the point his eyebrows have disappeared. He was in d.v. court and had a protective order issued against him. By looking at him He needs to have one out against him.

"Hey man I was just in court and my girl had a protective order issued against me!"

"O.k." I say.

"And she brought this other guy to court with her!" he says enraged.

"O.k." I say

"Why the fuck isn't he in jail?!?" the maggot demands to know.

"He was making faces at me an' shit the whole time we were in court. Tryin to punk me out!" He blares.

"O.k." I say

"Why the FUCK isn't he in jail!" maggot asks again.

"What did he do to go to jail?" I ask

"He grows weed man, fucking weed!"

"where at?" I inquire

"At his house man but the fuckin cops already came and took the shit" says maggot.

"Oooooaaaky, and they didn't arrest him?" I ask

"No man they can't fuckin find him" reports maggot

"Are there warrants on him?" I ask

"Yeah" states maggot

I refer him to the same window as mommas boy and tell him to tell her what he needs help with.

I then go to arbys with big red machine thinking I am away from the consolidated weirdos and will at least eat in peace. I get my food and sit down. Adjacent to me sits an older woman.

She looks at me and informs me that "she's been arrested for assault before, but it was all bologna. A big mistake. A mis-justice."

"That's unfortunate " I say. As I begin to choke down my dry roast beef sandwich. I can barely hear her as she continues on, telling me the specifics of her case, and what REALLY happened instead of the lies that were told about her in court.

"Neato" I think as I eat as fast as I can.

Put me in the middle of a disorderly mob duking it out.

Fun!!

Tell me about your drama

Nyet.

Crack Addict

It had been a long hot day, But thankfully the sun was going down and the high temperatures were giving way to a more tolerable climate as night was descending. I had jsut cleared a vehicle stop and was headed to the truck stop via dixon school road. As I crossed the overpass spanning
I-85 I saw a woman walking in the opposite direction. She was wearing blue jeans and a black shirt. She was carrying a tan backpack with a water bottle poking out of the top. She had blonde hair that looked as though it hadn't been washed in this decade.
Her face was wrinkled, creased and unattractive. She was so skinny her clothes looked as if they were about to fall off of her body. I didn't know who she was but I could tell by her appearance she was a crack addict probably looking for a truck driver to pimp herself out to for drug money.

As I passed her she would not look at me, instead she looked over the bridge almost as if she was considering jumping. I drove on to the truck stop and turned around to give her time to cross the bridge onto more stable ground. I pulled up behind her. She stopped and as I got out of my car to talk to her I could see in her face that she desperately hated the way she lived. Her life was one of desperation. In her world crack cocaine was God and all men cared about was having their dick's sucked. I imagine she has been beaten down one way or another her entire life.
"Hi, how are you?" I asked.
"GODDAMNIT!!" She yells at me.
"WHY ARE YOU FUCKERS ALWAYS STOPPING ME?!?" She ranted.
"ALL I'M DOIN' IS WALKIN' UP THE FUCKIN' ROAD!!"
"Ma'am, I don't know you, I've never met you before. We get a lot of complaints about prostitution in this area, at the truck stop in particular and it's a little odd to see a woman walking down this road alone. Are you o.k.?" I ask.
"I don't need no fuckin' ride." She replied, even though I hadn't offered her one.
"Besides, I'm more concerned with murderers and child molestors!" She said inferring that I should be bothering them instead of her.
"Yes ma'am, so am I." I said.
"I can't fuckin' tell." She chortled while glaring at me.
"You're not afraid of someone getting you into their car and killing you?" I asked.
"I don't give a fuck!" she replied.

"Well I do, I don't want to find you dead in a ditch two days from now. Just because you don't think your life is worth anything doesn't mean that's the case."
She softened a bit and looked at the ground, but just for a flicker of a moment.
"Where are you headed?" I ask.
"Up the road." she said coldly.
"Where are you coming from?" I ask.
"Down the road." She said, nodding towards the truck stop.
"Do you have any I.D. on you?" I ask.
She digs in her pocket and thrusts an I.D. card at me.
"Yeah I got fuckin' I.D." she says, adding "I aint got no fuckin' 29's on me either!"

I recognize her name immediately. She has been checked for warrants by officers in other agencies nearly every night this week. I know she isn't wanted.
"If you say you don't have any warrants I'll take your word for it and not waste our time checking." I say.
"Here's your I.D." I say holding it out to her.
She snatches it away and stuffs it back in her pocket, bellowing out one last"GODDAMN!!"
"Thanks for talking with me, have a good night." I say.
She turns and walks into the encroaching darkness. I return to my car and have her logged in the area as a suspicious person.

Several hours later we get a call from the truck stop to check out a woman loitering for prostitution in the truck staging area. She is described as a white female, blonde hair, wearing blue jeans, a black shirt and carrying a tan bag.