Friday, April 18, 2008
Self Control At It's Finest
(rated ok-for adults)
*side note, I am NOT at my finest today, I have been sick with allergies really bad, and keeping the grand baby but since I have not posted in a few days I will try to make it a good story! Let's hope hubby can take care of baby for a little while so I can do this.*
Ok, as the story always go.....one night while on patrol, I got a call of a 76, that means a non-injury accident. This was about 16th and Cherokee, two car accident. I arrive and find out that the driver of the van was hit by a lady (term used loosely) in the car behind. Speaking to the lady of the car I asked what happened tonight. She tells me she was driving and didn't see the van in front of her stop and she hit it. There was not much damage and no one was hurt so I go ahead and investigate the accident to write my report. I pretty well knew the outcome of this call, routine, nothing out of the ordinary, I HATE ACCIDENTS. The lady tells me the van has her children in it and they were on their way to the skating rink. I asked if they had their money and she said yes. I made sure the van driver was going to pick the kids up and take care of them as the plans had already been arranged. Driver of the car tell me how much she appreciates me taking care of things and especially how nice I am to her kids. I am the nicest police officer she has ever met. That's cool, not too many people tell you that, maybe she will write a letter to the chief for me. That always looks good in my file.
The van driver is going to take the kids after we visit for a minute, I explain what all to expect, how to get the report and what all is going to happen. People like to know what to do etc, not everyone is involved in an accident everyday. And besides I am just that kind of an officer. I try to make sure everyone is taken care of, questions are answered, you know customer service so to speak, keep the public happy. Besides I was arresting the driver of the car for DUI. That's Driving Under the Influence here in Oklahoma. One of the last states to have that charge, most everyone else has DWI, Driving While Intoxicated. I have always hated handcuffing a parent in front of their child. That is very traumatic and scares the children of the police. The innocent children are always the ones that pay for the sins of their parents. So the van driver understands what she needs to do and leaves. I return to the driver of the car. Oh she tells me I am the nicest police officer ever, she even LOVES me she says. Now I have had her in the back seat of my car for her safety while I am gathering my information for the accident report. I have called for the wrecker to come and impound her car, I have to do an inventory of the car. So now I will do a few field sobriety test, place her under arrest and handcuff her. I tell her she is under arrest for DUI and to place her hands behind her back. WHAT? She is under arrest? Yes for DUI I explain. I handcuff her and put her in the back seat of my car. I read her the Implied Consent Request as required by law and she tells me she will take the breath test. OK. So the wrecker gets there to take her car and I need to give him the keys to the car. Great, she has them in her pants pocket. So I have to get her back out of my car to get the keys. Now she doesn't want to get back into the car. Oh really?! That is not an option, how you get back into the car is the option, you either get into the car or I put you back into the car. You decide. After a little of both options I get her back into the car. Now once again the first of many mistakes start taking place. I didn't seat belt her. Why? I don't remember why? Maybe it was just back in the time where seat belts in the back seat just were not that big of a deal. I don't think we had a policy that we had to seat belt them even. The next BIG mistake was I did not have the cage window up and in place. Think about police cars. You know the screen that separates the front seat from the back seat....we call that the cage. Back in the old days there was metal that went completely across the back. It kept them from kicking or maybe even stabbing (with something) or getting us from the backseat. But there was a plexi glass window that could be raised or lowered depending on the needs. Mine was lowered. I hated that window. It was all scratched up and very hard to see out of so when I was backing and looking over my right shoulder I could not see well. Think about old plexi glass, it is no longer clear and sharp, but rather dull, dingy and hard to see through. My window mechanism was broken and would not stay up unless you did this little maneuver or that and it was just too much trouble. So my window was down. Get the picture?
I start heading to the jail which is located in the police department. I was probably about two, two and half miles away, not that far. 599 to Headquarters I am 10-15 one time, with a white female, starting mileage all zeros. 10-4, 599. So I start towards the jail and now all the sudden this "lady" informs me she no longer loves me. In fact, she doesn't even like me. I guess asking for the letter to chief will be out of the question now. Darn it. I am a horrible officer and she hates my guts. She calls me a few other choice names, no need to go into detail there, I am sure you can guess. But she leans forward through the cage window opening and ASK me how would you like it if I spit on you? Did she really just say what I think she said? Now picture this....I have long brown hair, freshly washed, braided, french braided at that, turned up all nice and neat. I informed her I would not like it and so she works up a luggie (snot ball) and spits it right in the back of my hair. Oh that was frickin' gross. She laughs, she is yelling and cussing at me and says she is going to do it again. I tell her she better not, she does! I slam on my brakes, called dog in the road check, she flies forward and I inform her she better not do that again. Just like a little child when you tell them don't, they do and she was no different. She leans back in her seat I hear her hack up a big ole luggie AGAIN, she leans forward and spits on me again. This is the third one and I feel like there are slime balls sliding down the back of my neck. I am furious. I never knew that I could feel such anger, rage. I have been spat upon not once, twice, but three times. For what? Nothing but doing my job. I get on the radio and tell headquarters to have someone meet me in the garage. She is yelling and cussing and of course they can hear her on the radio. I am approaching the garage to pull in and as I make the turn she lays down in the back seat of the car and kicks me right in the back of the head. Right behind my right ear, wham! One good kick. You know the phrase "I saw stars" Well I know what it means, I saw stars alright and they were all twinkling around my head. I pull into the garage with three officers standing there. I throw my car in park, get out slamming my door shut, I open hers with force and I reach in to "HELP" this lady (?) out of the car. With both hands I reach in and I am getting ready to grab her with much force when all the sudden I stop, I back out of the car door with both hands up, just like a cowboy that has been in a rodeo calf roping event. When they are through with the tieing of the legs they jump up and throw both hands in the air. Well that is what I look like. I hear my buddies saying "Lisa?" "What in the world is going on?" I turn to them and I tell Regina, You take her in, YOU book her. I turn and walk into the police department report room. I left my car, my prisoner, my keys, everything right there and just walked away. I sat down I was shaking so bad. I was so angry I couldn't stop shaking. Regina came in, she had turned the prisoner over to the other guys to take care of and she came in to check on me. She asked me what in the world happened. I looked at her and said, Regina, she spit on me THREE times, and then she kicked me in the back of the head. Regina looked at me with out missing a beat and said "and you didn't find a dark alley somewhere to take care of things?" That is when I looked up, snapped out of it and said, No!, She is my prisoner, I can't do that! She turned and walked out of the room shaking her head at me. I thought about it for a minute and decided I did the right thing. I went to the bathroom, got a paper towel and wiped my neck off. Splashed water on my face, calmed down and started the paper work. I think she refused the breath test and was very uncooperative by this point so they put her in the drunk tank for a few hours and the rest is history. But the story doesn't end there like you would think.
A while later I was transferred off the streets to the office of the training division. I was going to train new recruits, do all the public speaking events, and public relations. An office job, 8 to 5:00. Ok, I guess. I don't really have a choice, but ok. One day I was sitting at my desk working away when Gaylon came in (he was the janitor there) and he asked me if I had any cleaning to be done. He said he had a person coming in to do community service and he needed some jobs. No I said, I keep my office pretty clean. But he said he needed something. Ok, they can clean my blinds, they need dusting. He said ok, they would be in tomorrow. The next day I had forgotten all about the person coming to clean when I look up I see guess who? "the lady" and Gaylon walking into my office. I push my chair back and stand up, a little surprised and a little defensive you might say and ask what's going on. Gaylon reminds me of the community service person......oh yeah. I look at this "lady"and see she is about five, six months pregnant, kind of a pretty girl, and she looks at me. Gaylon leaves her and I just stand there. I say something like aren't you so and so? And she says yes. Aren't you the one the spit on me and kicked me? She says yes. She says to me, I am sorry about that, I was drunk. (my thoughts.....no kidding!) I ask her how far along pregnant is she, we talk about the baby blah blah blah. And she leaves. I sit at my desk alone with my thoughts. You see, that day I arrested her she was pregnant. She didn't know it, wasn't very far along a couple months maybe. I think about how I wanted to beat the holly crap out of her. She spit on me, she kicked me, she was no lady and she deserved anything I dished right back out at her. You know, the dark alley thing. Then I think, what if I would have done that? What if I would have caused her to lose her baby? What if I would have beat her up? What then? I was an officer of the law, she was my prisoner, handcuffed prisoner at that and DRUNK. There was never a moment I was more proud of myself for practicing anger management than that day.