Let's Be Cops: My Night Out With The Fuzz

Recently a neighbor and good friend, who also happens to be one of Orem's finest asked me if I wanted to go on a ride along. That was like asking me if I want a piece of chocolate cake with a glass of milk, or if I want to watch a Youtube video of two teenage girls fighting.* My answer was a resounding "DUH!"

The plan was for me to meet him at the library which is right next to the police station at 6pm. When I got there, I texted him and he told me he was dealing with an "incident" at RC Willey. He asked me to meet him in the University Mall parking lot 30 minutes later.

It was a hot, sunny evening. Perfect for fighting crime. I was extremely disappointed when I learned that I'd have to sit in the car while he was cracking skulls. This was particularly disheartening as the front seat of a police car isn't really built for passengers. His laptop was literally in my lap top. Despite the discomfort, I was ready to roll. It didn't take long before we got our first call.

We responded to a complaint that some money had gone missing from someone's dresser. The lady of the house wanted my partner to dust for fingerprints. I swear, I'm not making this up. When we got there, her extremely horrified daughter, who looked surprisingly normal was waiting with her mother out front. Apparently, the younger woman was the victim and had begged mom to drop it. Officer Friendly (I won't use his real name) got out the car and took his fingerprint kit with him. He didn't look all that thrilled at the prospect of using it. I sat and waited. Finally he came back to the car. "Did you crack the case?" I asked. Apparently, the victim had been paid in cash and had put the money in the top drawer of her dresser. Dad, a chronic drug user, was the prime suspect. Mom wanted fingerprints to prove his guilt. "I told her there was no way that I could dust a dresser drawer and get usable prints," he told me. It was particularly difficult to prove anything as the likely perp was a resident of the house. While I was disappointed that dear old dad wasn't lying face down on the lawn wearing flex cuffs, I was kind of relieved. When an entire row of Oreos goes missing, my family will just have to continue to speculate...

I really wanted some "action." So, we did some traffic duty. It didn't take long for someone to speed past us and we spring into action, lights ablaze. The driver of the car we pulled over was a young girl driving her dad's car. And the registration had expired. Oops. I felt kinda bad as she probably would have skated had I not been there. Oh well. If you can't do the time, as they say...

It was a slow night. So we drove around a lot looking for suspicious characters. I'm happy to dispel the myth that all cops do is hang out at donut shops. Although, I really would have liked one. (If there's a next time, I'm totally suggesting it.) He regaled me with tales from life on the thin blue line. You gotta give these guys respect. They see and deal with things that most of us would prefer not to even imagine.

As we were about to call it a day, we got a call. There was a shoplifter at the mall. Perfect! The crime scene was where my car was parked. We showed up and he told me I could come in! I was stoked. It's a good thing I wasn't packing because I was prepared to use excessive force. I really wanted someone to "make my day."

The suspect was a woman in her mid-twenties. She wasn't having any of this. At first she wouldn't even tell the cops her name. She was probably too blitzed out of her mind to know that my partner in (fighting) crime had dealt with her before. Recently. He gave her every opportunity to get off easily. He just wanted her to be truthful. But, she opted to do it the hard way. So, he cuffed her and made arrangements for her to spend some time in jail. She apparently wanted to take an alternate route out of the mall, so he had to nudge her along. Her husband, who was following us with a couple of their friends began ridiculously shouting, "Somebody film this! He's abusing her!" Seriously, dude? My respect for the cops grew as I witnessed the nonsense they have to deal with multiple times a day. I kind of wanted to pistol whip the husband and GIVE him something to complain about. Finally, when she came clean, she admitted that she'd snorted some Xanax. She also claimed that when she's high on Xanax, she steals. She said it like that would clear everything up. I was having a hard time making the connection. The few times I've taken Xanax before boarding an airplane, the only side effect I've experienced was slight drooling. I digress. Had she played ball, she would have gotten a ticket and spent the night in her own bed. Instead she was heading down to the county jail for who knows how long. All over thirteen dollars worth of temporary tattoos.

After we sent the shoplifter on her merry way, my friend had to fill out a bunch of paperwork. I bid him a fond farewell.

The experience was eye opening and as I said, I gained new respect for the boys in blue. Actually his uniform is black, but whatever. The next time you see a cop, buy him a donut. Or, the next time you see me, buy me one. As you can see, I've totally earned it!

*My wife told me the girl fight video comment wasn't classy. I'll let you be the judge: