"Generosity of Spirit has a place in the World"

I almost wanted to tell the lady that said this to me yesterday as I was writing her a ticket, "Thank you for my next post's title." She said this after offering no less than four or five excuses as to why she made a left when there's a big 'ol sign advising her she can't do that. Her final argument..."Generosity of Spirit has a place in the World."

I can't make up something like that, folks. Sometimes these things just write themselves.

Later the same day, I was told by a driver, "I own two of the buildings in this shopping center." That same guy also said, "I just bought coffee for three cops yesterday." To which I responded, "I don't understand, sir. Are you saying you would only buy them coffee if they didn't give you a ticket?" He didn't like that. I thought it was funny.

The Spirit Lady was like my third cite of the day. I generously gave out a total of 16. She inspired me. Thank you, Spirit Lady, thank you.

I hate the fucking sun...

Okay, not so much the sun per se, what with the life giving light and all, but certainly the hellacious heat that fucker throws off. I know, I sound bitter, but let me explain. I ride a Harley Road King. It throws off about 225 degrees of radiant heat from the engine. I wear wool motor pants. They don't breathe (or is it breath?). I also wear about 20 lbs of various equipment on my cool Batman utility belt. Not done yet...I also wear a bullet proof ballistic vest. It weighs about 10 lbs. And that sure as shit doesn't ventilate well (see how I avoided the breath/breathe problem there?)

All of that is warm enough when its 80 degrees outside. When that large ball of gas in the sky switches up the celestial thermometer to in excess of 90 degrees, or like today, over 3 digits, I become very, very uncomfortable. My point, you ask? Twofold, really.

First, if you get pulled over, how's about you do your best to stop in a fucking shady spot, huh? You are far more likely to illicit a warning from me (chuckle), but its the principle of the thing, really.

Second, it gets progressively hotter throughout the day. That means I go out as early as I can and knock out a quick 10 or so and then I head back to the PD to not sweat in unmentionable places.

And this is where I am pulling back the curtain and exposing the Great and Powerful OZ. Odds are I am not the only motor cop in the world doing the same damn thing. So, if you pay attention, you will learn that on hot days, your odds of getting stopped when it's hotter than the hinges of Hades out drop dramatically. Don't say I never gave you nothing. (And me, a Lit minor).

The Great Cell Phone Debacle

A little birdie has informed me that you are all curious about the victor in the cell phone contest. Alas, I regret to inform the masses the contest never came to fruition. As it happens in law enforcment, nothing happens as planned. My partner was supposed to have someone cover his beat, but that volunteer was yanked onto some other project, so we couldn't even get the contest off the ground.

I will say, however, I would have kicked his ass. Seriously. Not even close. To date, I've written 56 cell phone cites. Not bad. It's actually getting easier and 9 out of 10 times, the driver just shakes their head and mumbles something about having their blue tooth in the car next to them, but they just weren't using it. Excellent.

So, there it is...sorry to disappoint, but such is life. Onward and Upward...

"4 out of 5 kids are on drugs"

The title of this post is an educational tidbit I wasn't privy to prior to until about 0930 hours this morning. For your viewing pleasure, I offer the following scenario:

I stopped a vehicle after seeing the driver on her cell phone (*giggle*). I contacted her and she said, "I know I shouldn't be on the phone." Seems pretty easy what with her admitting to the violation. I scratch out the cite, walk back to the car and am met with, "I can't believe you are giving me a ticket. I told you I was on the phone with a young lady who is in rehab and needed my help. Four out of five kids are on drugs and I'm trying to help one of them and you are giving me a ticket."

Yes. Yes, I am. Pretty sure you can stop your death machine on the side of the road long enough to take your all important phone call from the young lady in rehab. The rehab that apparently has no staff on site to assist that very same in crisis youth.

Sometimes, it's just too easy.

So, there you go. I was unaware of the statistic that apparently 80% of kids are on drugs. Seems like a lot to me. She also said she knows who is supplying them with drugs, but seemed reluctant to provide that information to me after I offered to go and arrest that individual. Hmm. Odd. She seemed like such a helpful lady, too. Shame.