Saturday, December 25, 2004

Not the Christmas I imagined

This time of year is always rife with the absurd. I got a call that a fat drunk guy was waving a gun at people up and down a major thoroughfare. Long story short, I ended up tackling the guy and I’m smiling having a good time on top of him (I hope someone videotaped it) while another officer is attempting to talk to this deranged lunatic. The guy spits at the other officer. Right there our paperwork doubles. One minute of action equals two hours of paperwork.

At the jail when the guards are taking the prisoner away, he turns around and hocks up a loogey and spits it clear across the room and it lands on the toe of my boot. Should have kept the spit-sock on. I toss my hands up in the air and exclaim, “oh man! You’re killing me … that’s more paperwork.” I think it aggravated the guy even more when he saw that I was having fun with it. I said fuck it, I don’t want to be a victim.

It turns out this guy was bad news. He had two outstanding warrants for his arrest. Looks like he’ll be in prison come next Christmas too. So while you all out there are snuggled all toasty warm in your homes with loved ones by your side and a belly full of Christmas fare, I’m hungry on the cold streets making sure you stay safe and getting spat on … you bastards.