Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Oh Shit! at the Fairgrounds

About 2AM one morning, I got dispatched to a house on a cul-de-sac. A woman was sitting in a van in the driveway crying. When I approached to see what was going on, I realized that I knew the woman. She worked for the city in another department. She was mortified that I was the officer because we knew each other. After much prodding, she tells me that her husband got laid off and he was mad because she was the only one with a paycheck. She said it was a case of injured pride. It was Christmas and he was mad that finances were so tight.

I had met her husband a time or two and he seemed like a very reasonable guy. He was a very tall man, probably 6’4” or taller. His hands were so large that he could actually palm a basketball. He worked a very physical job which made him muscled. Knowing all of this, I decided that talking to him would be the best approach, appealing to his logical side.

She gave me the home number and I called it on my cell phone. He answered, sounded calm, and I asked him to step outside and speak with me. He had slapped his wife across the face and our current laws required that he be arrested for domestic violence. He stepped about halfway out the front door but left it open. He literally filled up the doorway. I explained the law and told him that if he would accompany me to jail, I would let him sign his own bond, a quick painless solution under the circumstances. He thought about it for a minute and then quickly stepped back into the house and closed the door. I heard him lock the deadbolt.

I went back to the van and asked the wife for the house keys. I also called for backup. When backup arrived, we used the key and entered the house. He was watching TV in the living room beside the Christmas tree. He stood up and wanted to know why we were in his house. I explained that he had to go to jail because he struck his wife. I asked him to put his hands behind him so we could cuff him…still hoping for his reasonable side to cooperate. He held his arms down by his sides, very non-threatening. I took hold of one arm and another officer grabbed the other. A third officer came in the front door about that time. The husband became angry. He yelled that he was cooperating so why did it take three officers. He picked up his arms and us with them. Our feet came all the way off the floor! We looked like that circular swing ride at the fair before it starts spinning very fast.

The third officer panicked and pulled out his pepper spray. It was a small room that was mostly full of coffee table and Christmas tree. As soon as the officer sprayed him in the face, he just shook his head and bellowed, “What did you do that for?” I had never seen pepper spray not work! Not good! There was nothing wrong with the spray because the two of us that were hanging from his arms were choking and snotting with tears streaming down our faces.

He started turning around, looking for a way out of the room, with us still hanging from his arms. The carnival ride had begun! One of us knocked over the Christmas tree with our legs as he spun with us. Luckily, he tripped over the coffee table and the ride came to a crashing halt. We can’t see, we can’t breathe, it feels like we are choking to death. He calmly says, “OK, OK, I’ll go if you quit tearing up my house! I am out of work and I can’t pay to fix it.”

Someone cuffed him and transported him to jail. My face felt like someone had just shoved it in a vat for frying French fries. We went outside and detoxed ourselves with the water hose. I did mention it was Christmas time. That water was so cold but it felt so good. The poor wife had to open all her doors and windows to get the air cleared.

7 comments:

Syd said...

Am I wrong for laughing at that?

Oh what the hell...hahahahaha

SassyFemme said...

OMG, I'm loving reading your blog! So glad you joined us in blogland!

Ms. A said...

Syd: Not wrong but it was wrong for the dispatcher to laugh when we were trying to call in. Our voices were cracking like adolecent boys.

Sassy: Thanks so much! What a sweet things to say.

Gunfighter said...

OC.

Is.

Fun.

('til you get sprayed with it)

Ms. A said...

LOL...you are so right! Laughing at someone crying and snotting is very funny unless you are looking at your reflection.

Gunfighter said...

One of these days, I'm going to blog about the day that one of our idiots discharged hi OC right next to the ventilation units for the range.

Drawn, loaded pistols and oc... a bad combo.

Anonymous said...

yo is this true? or u makin up some bull shit