Saturday, February 3, 2007

Pop Goes The Batteries

I was patrolling the Avenues one afternoon when I got a call of a domestic. The Avenues consist of several blocks of houses that were built in the 40's and 50's. It was an upscale neighborhood at that time. The houses are of the Craftsman or Cottage style with big covered porches. Over the years, a local slumlord has slowly been buying up houses so it has become a pretty rough place. There are still a lot of decent people living in the middle and I loved getting any chance that I could get to see inside these homes that were still being cared for. I am into architecture and really like these styles.
So I was hoping that the call would be over something minor and I would get to see the house. My friend Danny D. was sent as backup. We got there about the same time and saw a man and woman standing on the porch. We got out and started talking to them. No one was angry, they were just having a disagreement. A neighbor apparently called. I was kind of disappointed that we weren't invited in to take the report.
All of a sudden, the guy sprints in the front door and slams the door. He starts yelling that he is going to kill the "fucking bitch" as soon as the "5-0 takes a hike."
He locked the deadbolt and ran toward the back of the house. Danny called for backup while the woman went next door to get their spare key. Howard G. showed up just as we got the door unlocked. It’s my call so I go through the door first with Danny over my shoulder. As I clear the door and look left toward the hallway, I see a girl about 12 peek out of a door. The bad guy suddenly fills the opening to the hall...about four feet in front of me with the biggest damn gun I have ever seen. The barrel is so big that you could easily put a basketball in it!
I had my gun pointed at him, he had his pointed at me, Danny's gun in right by my right ear and everyone is cussing and screaming at each other.
I guess that he felt outnumbered so he dropped his cannon and ran down this little hall. I grabbed up his 22 revolver i.e. cannon ...hey you look at a gun pointed at your face and see what it looks like....and ran after him.
As I said, this was a craftsman style house so this hallway ran parallel to the living room and connected two bedrooms with a bath in between. In the hall, right outside the bathroom was a beautiful antique pedal-style sewing machine. That's where we caught up with the bad guy. This guy was pretty buff, his arms were like ham hocks and he was about 6 foot tall. Danny grabbed one arm and I grabbed the other and both started trying to take this guy to the floor. Danny is no small man, so the three of us locked up in this tangled struggle right on top of the sewing machine took up the whole hall.
We both wanted the same thing....bad guy on the floor. The problem was that Danny was pulling toward the front of the house and I was pulling toward the back of the house. This poor guy couldn't have gotten on the floor if he had wanted to without being pulled asunder. Of course, we did not realize what was happening so we both tried switching directions. This put me in the door of the bathroom, Danny on top of the sewing machine, and the bad guy facing down the hall toward the front of the house.
In comes Howard into the a fray. What a cluster! Now at that time most of us carried metal 3 D-cell mag lights that you could knock down a brick wall with. Howard, on the other hand, carried some cheap-ass aluminum or plastic K-Mart piece of shit. He and the bad guy were facing each other so Howard pulls out his piece of shit flashlight and smacks the guy in the forehead! We heard a "plink" and that fucker falls apart. Lens, bulb, and lid fly into the air...batteries fly off in different directions...and the bad guy suddenly relaxed and laughed. Danny and I were still pulling with all our might and were off balance.
Down we all went, a combined weight of about 500 pounds right on top of that sewing machine. That son of a bitch splintered into a million pieces and we landed on top of it. We looked up to see Howard standing there looking at his ruined flashlight with this what the fuck look on his face. We all started laughing hysterically.
Finally, the bad guy spoke up and said that if we would get off of him, he would go to jail. He said, "Get the fuck off me and get me out of her before my mom gets home. She will kill us all when she sees her grandmother's sewing machine." We jumped up and got the hell out of there. We didn't even take the time to handcuff the guy he was in such a hurry to get in the car.

2 comments:

Lee said...

these are great stories, glad you're sharing...now I got the theme to Cops in my head ;)

Ms. A said...

You mean the one that goes, "Bad girls, bad girls, what ya going to do?"
Thanks for stopping by.