Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Check Stop

Posted by: Blue

This year for Christmas, I'm T/A'd to traffic for the Check Stop Program. We're hunting out impaired drivers.

Last night we had two ASD passes and a fail, along with quite a number of traffic stops.

The fail was arrested for Drive Impaired and Drive Over 80 mg%. By the time he provided a breath sample on the full sized Breathalyzer, his BAC was down to 70 mg% and 60 mg% for the two tests respectively. He was released with no criminal charges and his license was suspended for 24 hours.

While driving him home, he said "You know? I'm glad that happened. It was a real wake-up call. I know I never want my kids driving drunk. I don't want to set a different example."

I believed him.

He shook my hand and told me "Merry Christmas" when I dropped him off at home.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Typically Abnormal

Posted by: Blue

A couple weeks ago, we showed-up at a Family Troubles call where the 18 year old son had smashed everything in the house, including breaking the tempered glass storm door with his face.

When we arrived, he was buck naked and swinging from the chandelier (not a figure of speech).

The odd thing about the call, I realized later on, wasn't cuffing him while he was stark naked, nor was it helping him zip-up his pants that I had to put on him.

The strange thing was that I never thought to ask why he was naked in the first place.  It just seemed so normal to me that he had no clothes on; perhaps due to his behaviour and intoxicated state.

I had to type into my report later on "It should be noted that it is unknown at time of reporting exactly why the male was naked upon arrival..."

It was a strange threshold to reach in my career when the nudity of a male that I proned-out at Taser-point was little more than a footnote in the report.

Sunday, December 1, 2013


Posted by: Blue

A few days ago, we pinched a dude on 2 warrants when his mom called the police anonymously, stating that he had gone into the mall with a handgun and large knife.  She ratted him out because he wouldn't give her $100 towards her crack habit.

He didn't have any weapons on him when we located him.

When we got to the car, he offered my partner and I five bills to let him go so he could spend Christmas with his new baby and his baby mama.

He cried when he found out that he would be going to adult prison and wouldn't have a chance at bail until Monday morning.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

New Digs

Posted by: Blue

This past Friday, we moved into the new station, starting with 2nd Relief.

Most of the computers are not working properly. There are no phones at the majority of the desks. There are boxes and piles of junk everywhere.

Many of the multi-million dollar features of the state-of-the-art building are not working properly.

The door to the video holding rooms doesn't open unless you put your shoulder to it due to a poor installation.

Our brand new car is out of commission until someone can figure out the problem with the CAD dispatch on the computer.

Our new evidence control procedure is nothing more than duplicating the exact same thing we had been doing before only through a third party over the phone. Plus we still have to do it the old was as well for some unexplained reason.

Tonight was our first arrest in the new station. What would have taken us two hours in the old place took us nearly seven in the new one.

Good old progress.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The Shame of Canada

Posted by: Blue

About a week ago, an off-duty officer came across a domestic assault in progress. A repeat violent offender was beating his girlfriend senseless in a 7-11. The veteran officer stepped in, identifying himself as a police officer and attempting to pull the criminal off of the victim. The assaulter turned and began beating the officer, delivering a flurry of fists to his face in an alcohol and drug fuelled rage. The cop was beaten down, as was another citizen who stepped-in to help.

The officer received the worst of the injuries, including a broken orbital bone and the likelihood that he would be permanently blind in one eye.

The offender was taken into custody a short time later.

He received bail a number of hours later, despite the fact that he was already pending a number of other charges, not to mention the seriousness of the offence.

Sadly, Canada seems to have the position that the rights and freedoms of criminals are more important than those of the victims and the public.

I took my Canadian flag off of my vest yesterday. I'm ashamed to wear it right now.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Time Off with Blue

Blue just started a stretch of holidays. We thought this would be a good time for him to take a few weeks off since summer books up fast and he and I can have some down time while the kids are in school. Turns out, he's got a whole bunch of side jobs that have come up and more work needs to be done on our house ( it's never-ending actually).

Side jobs are good for us. They keep us afloat and pay for all the little extras.

We are taking two holidays, so that makes up for the craziness of the holidays at home. We are taking the kids on a little road trip for a few days and (drum roll please) Blue surprised me with a trip to Las Vegas for my 30th and our 9th anniversary!! I'm so happy to be getting away just the two of us without any children. We've never done a holiday like this before. Both of us are quite excited!

For those of you who have been, do you have any tips or places to visit for us first timers?

Monday, September 9, 2013

Code Brown

Posted by: Blue

Warning: Poop humour

Yesterday we had a shift breakfast together, pot-luck style.  I brought my favourite; hashbrown casserole.

There were sausages, fruit, apple pancakes, bacon, cinnamon buns, eggs, and the cliché; doughnuts.

I had two plates, then we cleaned up and headed out on the road  for the start of the shift.

It was a quiet morning.  No calls in the queue, so we rolled around and looked for some trouble.  It didn't take long to find it.  About 20 minutes in, I spotted an abandoned Chevy Cavalier with a torn-up wheel that had been pushed into the front driver's quarter-panel.  Looked like a drunk had hit the median and then abandoned ship before anyone could nail him for driving impaired.

As we sat waiting for a tow, I let JT know that the next stop would need to be the station for a bathroom break. Breakfast was catching up to me.

Ten minutes went by.

Twenty minutes.

I started fidgeting in my seat.  I tried some conversation to keep my mind off of my pending bowel movement.

Thirty minutes.

Forty minutes.

I called the towing company for an ETA.  10 or 15 minutes she said.

I had cramps now.  Had to relieve some pressure.  I leaned a little and let off some steam.

It was rancid.  The damn hashbrown casserole.  Too much garlic.  JT's eyes started watering.  We had to evacuate the car.

"I can't wait dude.  I gotta head for the coffee shop.  You mind waiting for the hook?"

"Sure.  I'd rather you not be around in case that happens again."

I started walking.  It was about 4 blocks.  I made it 2 blocks before the cramps started again.  "Why the hell did I put extra hot sauce on the eggs?"

A cabbie must have noticed the cop walking with something like a cross-over between a hunchback, a waddle and a gimped leg.  He stopped to offer me a ride.  1 1/2 blocks to go... I seriously considered it... then I considered that if my bowels failed me, my misery would forever be captured in that cab... both in the upholstery and on his passenger cameras.  I passed, waving him on with a grunt.  It was all I could muster.

My phone alerted me to a text.  I though JT might be on his way to give me a ride.  I checked my phone, still hobbling along.

JT: It still stinks.  I just threw up a bit.  Serious.  It got right in the seat.

I had to keep from laughing.  Couldn't lose muscle control...

I was crossing the parking lot now.  Made it to the door.  I started undoing my suspender clips and belt keepers for quick removal of the duty belt.

Through the dining area.  Back to the washrooms... "Please God, please don't be occupied!"...  The door opened.  I tried to slam it shut and lock it.  It had a slow-close piston and resisted slamming... I put my body weight into it... Shhhhhhh.......... cl-i-c-k.

Oh sweet merciful heavens.  That's better.

I almost didn't make it.  JT actually did puke a bit of his toast up.  It's the very first time anything job-related has made him nauseous enough to up-chuck.

Saturday, August 24, 2013


Posted by: Blue

I went out fishing for Thursday and Friday.

We portaged a 14' aluminum boat approximately 750 yards into one of Canada's world famous Pickerel (Walleye) lakes, along with an 18HP Evinrude and about 3 times more gear than we needed.

Fished for 2 days straight.  One on the line; couldn't land him before he spit the hook.  No one else even got a bite.

Still better than a good day at work.

Thursday, August 15, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Today was firearms qualifications.

I shot 100% in back to back qualifiers.  I believe the Hogue moulded grip that I put on the Glock has made a major difference.  The gun feels much better and my grip has improved.

Per the Firearms Unit, the top 4 contributors to a good shot, starting with the most important are as follows:

  1. Trigger control
  2. Grip
  3. Sight picture
  4. Follow through

Bonus: we were able to shoot our two year old duty ammo and have been re-issued new bullets.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

The Burden

Posted by: Blue

Yesterday, there were two small children found dead in a bathtub.

My shift mate was doing a favour for a friend and working when she should have been off.

She was first on scene.

Tomorrow, she is going to see the service counsellor.

I don't know entirely how she is handling it, but she seemed in decent spirits while I was texting with her last night.

I started crying at dinner tonight while looking at my littlest boy and thinking of those two in that tub.

No one should ever need to experience that.

Monday, July 15, 2013


Posted by: Blue


JT was off a few days in the last couple weeks.  On my last evening shift of the tour, I was working with one of the officers from the station to the South of us.  I like him.  He's in a rock band and has funky hair.

We were dispatched to a Sudden Death.  It took us through the last half of our shift.

It was over 35 degrees Celsius (95 degrees Fahrenheit) in the apartment, with no AC and only a tiny window that didn't catch the breeze.

Our deceased was in his 50's, buck naked, and over 450 pounds.  He expired beneath the kitchen table.

The M.E. called in extra help from the body snatchers and two crews showed up, bringing with them an extra-large body bag.

The body had only been there for about a day and a half, but in the heat, he had already begun to quickly decompose and bloat.  His back was over the table legs, and when we moved the table from under him, some of the blistered flesh burst, spilling a clear goo that smelled similar to rotten eggs all over the floor and my boots.

His face was turning black and green.  Some of the bodily fluid had leaked out of his nose after he died.  It was blackish and tarry.  Luckily, the maggots hadn't gotten to him yet.

I made sure to call the new recruit for our shift so he could come take a look (and smell).  His Field Trainer was very thankful that I thought to include them in the learning she said.  I didn't believe her.  She seemed insincere.

When the transport company rolled him to get the plastic sheeting around him, that's when it got bad.  The body started gassing.  My partner for the night pulled his vest up over his face and just looked at me.  "Nope! No! Uh uh."

There is no smell on earth like the gasses coming off of a decaying and decomposing body.  It seems to stick to you and get into your mouth so you can taste it.  It lingers and hours later you sometimes catch another whiff coming off of your clothes.

After rolling him, we could see the impressions on his back from the table leg and an extension cord he had fell onto.

Part of our job in a Sudden Death is to gather any medications, large amounts of cash, and things like the will, the suicide note in the case of a suicide, and notify the next of kin.  We also help the M.E. to determine cause of death if we can.  I usually check the fridge for meds.

Our deceased had the following in his fridge:

  • 4 cases of diet ginger-ale
  • 1 full bottle of Coke Classic
  • 1 full bottle of Coke Zero
  • 2 bottles of hot sauce
There was nothing else.  There wasn't even a jar of mustard, a litre (quart) of milk, or a wilted head of lettuce.

On the ottoman was a massive pizza called the "T-REX" - salami, pepperoni, beef, ham, hot peppers and onions with double meat and double cheese, extra sauce, according to the printed chit taped to the box.

A half-empty (I realize that I thought of it as half-empty rather than half full - I must be getting more cynical as a cop) 60 oz. bottle of cheap vodka rounded out the dietary supplements for the gentleman.

With all of the heart meds and insulin that we found on the kitchen counter and in the freezer, it was clear that it was his lifestyle that killed him.  Although the exact cause of death was undetermined, pending an autopsy, no one had any doubts that it was "natural" causes.

I think, I will be hitting the gym more regularly and trying to stay clear of the fast food a bit more.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Growing Older

Blue turned 30 yesterday.

This morning I was sitting in bed, the was sun streaming in and the window was slightly cracked. I was listening to the birds while I sipped at my coffee. Little Blue was crawling around on the floor beside me chatting to his rubber ducky. The Boy and Waffle were downstairs watching cartoons about bugs. Blue had just fallen into bed straight off of night-shift. His breathing was already rhythmic and heavy.

I smiled to myself. Little Blue thought I was smiling at him so he gave me a big gummy grin and then went back to slobbering on the ducks head.

My days are busy and tiring, as are Blue's, but they're good. We're growing older but I don't mind so much when I look around and feel a peaceful contentment.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

The Recruits

Posted by: Blue

The recruits started field training on Monday - Canada Day.

We have a former Natural Resource Officer and a former Prison Guard on our shift.

They both seem like good guys.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Gone Fishin'

Posted by: Blue

I just got back from 4 days on my favourite lake with 4 of my best friends.

I am relaxed.

Tomorrow I'm in court bright and early.  Nights start Tuesday.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Foot Chase the Sequel

Posted by: Blue

Today we responded to a Domestic where the complainant's ex-boyfriend was running away with their shared child.

We were close by and volunteered, pre-empting off of our held call.  We spotted the suspect almost right away, running across the street carrying a small, scared-looking 3 year old boy.

We shouted at him to put the child down, which he did, but then he took off running right away again.  The mother swooped in and grabbed her child.

It was like a circus watching us chase the guy in circles around the block.

We lost sight of him after one corner.  A passer-by shouted "Pine tree! Pine tree!"

A single pine was in a lawn about a quarter of the way up the block.  I passed by once but didn't see anything.  I doubled back and then I spotted him; peering out from beneath the lowest boughs.

"Police! Stop! Show me your hands! If you run again I'm going to Taser you!"

He jumped up to run.  I hit him with a textbook spread of the probes in the centre of his lower back, dropping him in his tracks.  I didn't give him the full 5 second ride.  He was locked-up and shouting "OK! OK! OK!".  I switched it off after 2 or 3 seconds and he was ready to comply.

I found out later that it was the third time he had been Tasered.  He had only been out of jail for a couple of weeks and was on two Probation Orders for separate Assaults on the same woman.

I scraped up my right knee bailing on a corner with loose gravel again and ripped my pants.  The Sergeant granted me a no-charge slip.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Foot Chase

Posted by: Blue

Yesterday evening, during a foot pursuit of a wanted male, I bailed going over a fence when it suddenly opened and I realized mid-air that it was actually a gate which had been left ajar.

I was subsequently almost bitten by 4 dogs in two different yards.

JT lost his cuffs from his worn-out issued pouch.

I have a raspberry on my face above my right eye, which matches the other two on my left forearm and left knee.

We lost the male and couldn't find him again even with K9.

I was grumpy and feeling defeated when I got home because we had been watching for him for months.

My wife set me right with a cold beer and home-made pizza right out of the oven when I got home.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Child Welfare

Posted by: Blue

Last night we picked up 2 "missing" persons A.K.A. runaways.

The first was a chronic child (10 y/o) runaway.  He leaves his foster shelter every few days and walks to his birth mom's house, often in bare feet and not dressed for the weather.

Due to the chronic nature of his running and the fact that his "caregivers" keep allowing this small boy to be put in danger by allowing him to walk right out the door (this past time, he reports that the worker said "go ahead! run off!"), he was brought back to the central after-hours shellter.  We told the worker that alternative locations would be required to be found.  Then he had this following conversation with the boy:

Worker: "So we're going to bring you back to that house OK?  There's no other place for you to be."

Boy: "OK."

Worker: "Are you going to stay there?"

Boy: "I'm going to go to sleep tonight and then run away again tomorrow."

Worker: "Well you shouldn't do that."

Boy: "I will!  I want to see my mom!"

Worker: "Well I think we should have a talk about that."

Boy: "I'm going to keep running away.  You can't put your hands on me to stop me."

Worker: "I'd like it if you just promised to stay so I don't have to."

Boy: "I'm going to run away whenever I want."

Me: "And this is why he needs a different placement where they are not afraid to take care of him properly and prevent him from running."

Worker: "I'll keep him here for a few hours until he's ready for bed and then bring him back there."

Me: "But he is just going to run again."

Worker: "I think he understands he can't be doing that."

Me: "Are you kidding me?  It's abundantly clear that he does NOT understand that nor does he care to try.  This boy needs to be somewhere safe and it is your job to put him there."

Worker: "There is nowhere for him to go other than that house."

Me: "Alright.  I have no authority to do any differently.  My report is going to reflect your neglect and the neglect of the staff at that house to care for this child."

Worker: "Fair enough."

Me: "Maybe for you.  Not for him."

Friday, May 10, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Two nights ago, after a short foot pursuit, my partner and I caught two suspects from a knife-point car-jacking where the victim was stabbed but not critically injured.

We had held a point while K9 tracked them earlier in the evening, but the scent was lost in all the downtown foot traffic.

We found them when one of the guys was reported for attempting to break into his girlfriends house.

Detectives took it over and we got some OT while we briefed them.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013


Posted by: Blue

I testified in Traffic Court for the first time today.

It was a cell phone tag.  He said he was adjusting his seat belt.  He wasn't.  He was holding his cell phone to his left ear with his right hand.

The Judge believed the accused and commented that he didn't believe that I could have seen whether or not he was holding a cell phone to his ear from 60' away.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

The Return of the Sun

Posted by: Blue

It was a beautiful day today.  It went up to 16 degrees Celsius and sunny (61 Fahrenheit).

Time to put away the mock-neck monogram shirts and break out the Under Armour Heat Gear short sleeves.

By mid-summer, the thermometer can top out at around 38 degrees Celsius (100 Fahrenheit), making this climate I live in the second widest ranging temperature scale on Earth, surpassed only by Siberia in Northern Asia.

According to Wikipedia, the highest and lowest recorded temperatures for my city encompass a 90 degree Celsius (162 Fahrenheit) difference.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Spring Transfers

Posted by: Blue

This year, our Spring Transfer season incorporated our district amalgamating with the one to the South of us.

We now use approximately 25% of the police officers in the city to cover a land mass that is almost 50% of the city's sprawl.

In addition, we have lost our beloved Patrol Sergeant and Desk Sergeant to the shift that rotates before us, along with 4 of the Constables (1/2 the shift).

With JT gone on holidays to Hong Kong for two blocks, 5 new faces, 2 new Sergeants and two stations to work between, I think I might be feeling out of place until June or so.

A few saving graces:

  1. Our new Sergeants seem to be great guys
  2. We received one more constable than we lost, bringing our compliment up to minimum... at least for now...
  3. My holiday time bank is about to refill in 7 days
  4. Many of the newbies on the shift are coming out of speciality units with plenty of experience in various areas to share with the rest of us General Patrol humps
  5. The new district covers a number of my favourite eateries in the city, including my all time #1 breakfast spot - a falafel joint owned by a dude from Iran which has the best hash-browns ever
  6. JT and I are officially still partnered and ready to rock the city all year again before he is a mandatory transfer next year - AND... I believe we will be maintaining our epic 203 callsign

Thursday, April 18, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Last night at around 1:10 AM, we spotted a guy milling around the hooker district.

He was carrying a toilet over his left shoulder and the tank lid in his right hand.

When asked what he was doing with a toilet on his shoulder at 1:10 in the morning, he replied "I'm salvaging it.  I work for a landlord."


I don't know what I was expecting.

I really never know what to expect.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Morale Patches

Posted by: Blue

I was at the local tactical shop today.  I picked up some Mil-Spec Monkey morale patches for my duty bag.

I liked the first one so much that I bought one for JT too.

Thursday, April 11, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Today we assisted our grow-op unit with a warrant execution.

The bust netted over 500 plants in various stages.  It had a street value of over half a million dollars.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Different Days

It's quite the challenge, I find, to make well put-together delicious meals with a child in Kindergarten and a baby in the house. For half the day I have one ear and one eye constantly on Waffle until she's shipped off to school and the for the whole day I have the other ear and other eye on Little Blue. If I can manage to stuff something in my face for breakfast and lunch other than coffee and more coffee then we've had a successful day.

So you can imagine how disappointed I get when I go to the effort to make a nice roast or chicken only to have Blue working OT.

Last Monday I was busy preparing dinner when I got a text from Blue saying he wouldn't be home for awhile. Sigh. While I was chopping potatoes and carrots and listening to some relaxing music, Blue was across the city waiting for the Medical Examiner. An elderly gentleman had passed away in the shower while cleaning-up after bowel movement.

I was struck by how polar opposite our days have become.

Although, to be fair, I do deal with my fair share of baby poop.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Last night we had an animal call.

He was a big, grumpy German Shepherd.  We were prowling the back lane looking for his owner who has 2 warrants.

The dog had broken free from the chain he has been kept on all winter.  We called animal services.  He didn't seem to like police and would growl and raise his neck hair every time we got close.  I didn't want to impose the jeopardy of having to shoot or Taser him by getting too close and finding out that he liked to bite.

After the City Pound folks managed to snag him, we got a look at his living arrangements.  He had no dog house, no water, very little food and was living right next to a large pile of his own excrement.  He had only a sheet of ice to sleep on.

His owner will be getting a number of tags including one for failing to adequately care for an animal.

We told the pound to call us if our guy showed-up to collect his dog.  We've been trying to hook him for months now.

Monday, April 1, 2013

A Sheepdog

Posted by: Blue

This is one of the best metaphors I have ever heard.

One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.”...

...I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.
“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial...

...We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.”

Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

- From the book, On Combat, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman

Sunday, March 31, 2013


Posted by: Blue

This morning, after a long shift, we were getting our prisoner checked at the hospital before jail.

One car ahead of me at the hospital, my classmate had one in custody for murder.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Good Friday

Posted by: Blue

Last night was busy.  Two arrests before lunch; I cut myself on a window while breaking into a house on a weapons call; seven other calls including a hospital wait and 3 or 4 traffic stops.

I like nights like that.  It's the paperwork that I hate.  I could arrest people all night long, go to domestics, B&E's, guns, drugs, gangs.  I love the job.  But that damn paperwork is a killer.  Every so often, the powers that be attempt to "streamline" everything by adding some more paperwork.  Usually a check-sheet or form.  The hardest part of the job is trying to remember what damn forms you need and how to fill them out properly.

But I digress.

Last year, the day after Good Friday was dead.  I'm hoping for the same this year to catch up on the unnecessary evil of the paperwork after all of the important things we've been doing.

My Life is Exhausting

Last night I took The Boy, Waffle and Little Blue to our church for a Maundy Thursday potluck  Between getting the ingredients and cooking the food, I had spent a few hours making a massive dish of cannelloni for everyone. Blue started a long stretch of nights so he wasn't able to come with us.

The kids have been on spring break this week. The first morning that they were off The Boy turned to me and said, "I'm bored. I want to go back to school." Keep in mind that this is coming from a kid that likes to solve math problems just for fun...I figured I better plan some good activities to keep them entertained. Blue was able to join us for most of them since he had a few days off. We went swimming, glow bowling, mini-golfing, to Ikea (the kids had never been and they thought the giant maze-like store was pretty fun), out for lunch a few times, had their friends over for play dates, sent Waffle to a friends house for her first-ever sleepover, watched a few movies and did a few crafts.

Yesterday I drove around getting the kids little things for an Easter hunt on Sunday and my food for the potluck. I was dead tired from the craziness of the week and I had a cup of coffee in my hand for the majority of the day.

It's a lot to get two kids, a baby and a dish of food out the door. Between helping set-up, wrangling kids, feeding a baby (twice), feeding kids, feeding myself, wrangling kids again and packing everything/everyone up I barely heard the message and had hardly any time to visit with friends.

By the time we got home (Little Blue screamed the entire way) I was furious with the whole evening and a few of the things the kids had done and I had to deal with it all by myself because Blue was working. I went to bed wondering why I even bother. There are a lot of moments during a lot of days where I feel like all of my efforts go completely unappreciated and unnoticed. There are stretches of days where I feel like a single parent when Blue is on shift and everything falls on my shoulders, or at least it feels that way. It's easy to look at other people and think they have it way easier or way better...and maybe they do. We knew going into this that it would be difficult.

I hope when the kids are a little bit older they're able to look back and remember all of the fun movie nights and family game nights and crafts that we did and they're able to overlook all of the times their mom was a total basket-case.

At this point in time, my life feels completely exhausting.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Tommy Solami Part V

Posted by: Blue

I've got court scheduled in May for ol' Tommy Solami.

I'm interested to catch-up on the drama between him and his girlfriend.

Monday, March 25, 2013

The Liquor Store

Posted by: Blue

Two nights ago, we were assigned to a disturbance right out of the station before briefing was complete.

Six minutes later, we were fighting with the suspect in the middle of a crowded liquor store.

We gave him a number of knee strikes aimed at his common peroneal nerves and finally managed to pull his hands from under his body and got him into cuffs.

He was negative for any police involvement other than traffic tickets.  He calmed down and ended up at the tank for the next few hours.

My right knee still hurts.  I missed the common peroneal and drove my knee straight into his hip.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

The Gambler

Posted by: Blue

Three nights ago, we took a drunk out of a bar.  She had lost her whole welfare cheque on the VLT's and was asking other patrons for change.

On the way to her house, we asked her how much she had lost.


"I'm on all week on evenings and next week I'm on nights.  I don't want to see you in any of the bars.  Your kids deserve better."

She broke down crying.  "Everything I do is for my kids."

I looked at her in the rear-view mirror.  She looked back at me then looked away.  She knew I didn't believe that.  Neither did she.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Court and Re-cert

Posted by: Blue

Today I was originally subpoenaed for court.  I was cancelled Friday.

Recertification for Police Vehicles Operation was cancelled for tomorrow because the track is snowed-under.

Two extra days off.

Saturday, March 16, 2013


Posted by: Blue

This Spring, our district is merging with the South.

The rush has started and the Sergeants are being shuffled.  Now all of the Constables are trying to vie for a position with their favourite boss while trying to avoid any problem cops and maintain their current partners if at all possible.

It is shaping up to be a big gong show.  So far, JT and I believe we might just get to stay together.  One of the senior guys on our shift is sticking on to advocate for the Constables and the new Sergeant for our shift is saying "If it ain't broke, I don't intend to fix it."

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Hit & Run

Posted by: Blue

Today, we were dispatched to a call for a hit and run collision with a semi trailer hitting a light standard and knocking it down.

Four witnesses phoned-in with the same description and information.  We headed to the shipping yard to locate our truck.  When we got there, we asked the receptionist if she could call one of her drivers to meet with us.  She was very helpful, but she said it might take a while.


"It might be hard to find the driver."

"Can't you just ask dispatch to raise him?"

She laughed.  "We have more than 1000 rigs.  Each of them has 2 trailers.  We can track him down, but it might take a few."

"I see."

1000 tractors is a lot of tractors.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Today, JT had court on a 4 year old drug arrest.

He testified for half an hour and was dismissed.  This was the third trial date that had been set.  Apparently the accused kept firing his lawyers.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Lights Down

Posted by: Blue

Last night, a fire on a hydro pole (utility pole for any Americans) cut power to a few square blocks in an industrial and business area near the airport.

JT and I were stuck directing traffic for 9 hours.  When the signals crew finally arrived, it took them all of 6 minutes to solve the problem.

Before that, we had a weapons call.  When we showed up, the complainant identified the gun as a "Glock with a brown handle that was a 5-shot revolver, 9mm..."  It was apparently in an unidentified male's waistband but only the grip was seen.  The complainant was certain of each detail.

We could tell he was lying because of the way he described the gun (not to mention all four of the officer's spidey senses were going haywire).  Just try a Google search for a weapon that includes all of those details.  If you can find it, you're a better cop than I.

He admitted to his B.S. when I called him on it.  JT told him not to lie to the police any more 'cause he wasn't smart enough.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Downright Bang-able

Posted by: Blue

A few nights ago, while lodging a drunk male at the tank, he turned to my partner and said "You're pretty cute..."  Then he turned towards me and said "But he's downright bang-able".

Now I think JT's jealous of my sex appeal.

Friday, February 15, 2013

JT's Favourite Story

Posted by: Blue

There are two different tellings of this story.  The real story, and JT's version.  He has told his version of the tale to everyone on every shift... multiple times... often by special request.  I just let him.  It's way funnier than the truth, even if the truth alone was already quite hilarious.

DISCLAIMER: The facts as presented by JT were accurate to his standards at the time of posting.  It should be noted that the story becomes more and more elaborate and ridiculous with each re-telling.

It was the beginning of a day shift.  We were just signing on.  I was driving and headed for the coffee shop to pick up our regular morning java to kick-start the day.

It was the beginning of a day shift.  We were just signing on.  I was driving and jumping and telling JT to run plates the entire time he was trying to log onto the computer and he was becoming more and more agitated because he couldn't sign on but I kept bothering him with plate numbers.  He kept telling me to shut up and just focus on heading for the coffee shop to pick up our regular morning java to kick-start the day.

I saw a vehicle pass-by, going the opposite direction, without a front plate (mandatory in our province).  I waited until the traffic cleared, pulled a u-ball and then caught up with the car.  It stood-out to me because it looked like it had the dark tinted windows and shiny rims of a typical dial-a-dealer drug-mobile.

JT was still fighting with the computer and looking forward to getting a coffee to calm him down when suddenly he was thrown sideways as I careened through a u-turn which took me over the 8" high centre median and then all hell broke loose as I accelerated after some unknown target, all the while cutting-off a number of shocked citizens who were just trying to get to work safely.  JT kept asking me "What's wrong!? What did you see!?" but I refused to answer and I had the look of a determined mad man in my eyes.

We caught up with the vehicle and I turned my overhead lights on.  The car didn't slow down, so I chirped the siren a little.  The car still didn't slow or pull over, so I let the yelpers wail.

I almost rear-ended the vehicle, coming up on it hard.  Then I proceeded to roll down my window and hang halfway out the door, yelling at the person who was driving and wildly flailing my arms.  When that didn't work, I grabbed the PA system and started hollering at the driver that if they didn't stop their tires would be shot out.  A number of PITT manoeuvre attempts proved fruitless.  JT began voicing a slow pursuit over the radio.

At this point, I began to suspect one of two things; either this was a gang member attempting to make a very slow get-away, or it was a very elderly person who was oblivious to my presence.

I told JT to let dispatch know that the helicopter would be required for our pursuit.

The suspect finally pulled over and stopped, but on the left side of the street instead of the right.  I stopped the car behind them and got out to approach the driver's side door.

The vehicle in question remained in motion but the pursuit was so slow that I decided to get out on foot and give chase.

Just as I got to the driver's door, the vehicle began pulling into a left hand turn, across the intersection and headed for a side street.  I began running alongside, knocking on the window with my flash-light to alert the driver, who I could now see was indeed a frail old grandmotherly type, of my presence.

As I approached, the vehicle accelerated away from me.  Not to be left empty-handed, I jumped onto the trunk of the car, holding onto the antenna for support, and made my way over the roof of the car as it sped away to peer into the car through the windshield.  I held my Glock and pointed it at the feeble old lady in the driver's seat, threatening to send her straight to Jesus if she didn't stop the vehicle.

Just as we crossed through the intersection, our tactical team happened to be driving by.  They saw me running alongside the vehicle and decided to lend a hand if they could.  Meanwhile, JT still sat in the car in the middle of the road, with the driver's side door wide open and the lights still flashing, shaking his head and wishing he was drinking a coffee.  The driver finally noticed me and pulled to the side of the road.  The boys in the tactical car jumped out to help but I sheepishly waved them off.  They waved and drove away.

Just as we crossed through the intersection, our Tactical team happened to be driving by.  They saw me running alongside the vehicle and immediately assumed I was chasing down a murderer who was wanted on a Canada-wide warrant.  They finished the pursuit by ramming the suspect car into a tree.  The driver was unceremoniously pulled out of the vehicle through the smashed window and held at the point of two assault rifles while I begged them not to shoot and tried to quickly explain myself.

I explained my presence to the sweet old gal and asked why she hadn't stopped and if she hadn't seen the lights.  She replied "Oh sure I saw you there.  I just didn't think you were after me!"  I told her that she was missing her front plate. "Oh my goodness!  It must have fallen off!  Thank you officer!"  "You're welcome ma'am.  Just make sure to pull to the right and stop next time... even if you don't think I'm after you.  Have a nice day."

It was eventually discovered that I had scared the old lady so much that she had soiled herself.  In the end, she ended-up being the great-aunt of the mayor and I had to talk to the Chief and explain why I had been so rough on the woman.  I kept my badge but just barely because as it turned out, the mayor didn't really even like his great-aunt.

Bad Week

Posted by: Blue

It's been a hell of a week.

I'm tired and worn out.  Not from overtime or from manual labour.  I've been getting good sleep for the most part.

But every person I seem to have dealt with this week seemed intent to belittle me and tell me what a terrible job I was doing or had done.

I think I did a great job.

Thank God my bosses see how hard JT and I work for all of these people who try to destroy us.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Today, my Sergeant sent me a message in the car;  "There's an envelope for you in the shift bunk".

It is a formal complaint which has been lodged with the police "watchdog" agency over the conduct of myself and a couple other officers on my shift.

The complainant was arrested for driving impaired and had to be handcuffed and shackled and at times held down to keep her from smashing her head on the cement floor of the cell.

Her children were put into temporary foster care while she was in jail awaiting bail approval.

I try not to take it personally, but every time I think of her, I think of the state that I found those children in; sleeping in a room full of dog shit all over the floor, nothing but rotten food in the fridge and empty cereal boxes on the shelves, dirty, un-bathed and no proper winter clothing to be found.

Her 7 year old girl was in the vehicle with her as she sped drunk and high through residential areas.  The poor sweetheart wasn't buckled in and kept rattling around in the trunk area of the van along with all of the empty liquor containers.  My Sergeant and I gave her chips and soda while she played games on my iPhone and her mother screamed away in the cell on the floor above us.

I hope she goes to jail for a long time.

At the same time, I hope she doesn't, so her kids never have to enter the foster system permanently.  It's worse than all of that because they will likely never have each other again and each other is their only salvation from their mother.

Some people must be stopped from having children.  But personal "rights" take priority, even if they infringe on other good and innocent people's rights and freedoms.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

The Law Should Be Technicolor

Posted by: Blue

Sometimes I feel like the tools that I have to use for keeping the peace demand that the situation be determined as either black or white.

But the best solution for the problems that people have dictate that you see spectrally.  People are dynamic and complex.  Like roan red or cerulean blue.

Saturday, February 2, 2013


Posted by: Blue

In the coldest months of the winter, people often come up with strange ways to stay warm.

I frequently see all of the elements on the stove glowing red hot while the oven door is wide open, trying to heat the kitchen.

Lately, I have been going into houses where there are blankets and quilts nailed over the doors and windows to stop drafts.

Last night, on a disturbance call, we knocked on the front door of the house.


We knocked on the back door.  Rustling and bustling was heard.  The door finally cracked open and the Steward of the Manor lifted a questionable blanket like a tent flap for us to enter into the home.  We had to duck under the material (quickly and with as much agility as possible to avoid chances of bed bugs living in the tapestry dropping on our heads) and then edge past the butler; a middle-aged gentleman with a uniform consisting of a beer shirt and dirty "athletic" pants (though I doubt they had ever been used for their intended design) and a mouth full of rotting teeth and spaces where teeth had already rotted away.  His breath smelled like Death and Hades riding out to drag souls back to Hell (and stale beer).

"I see you guys have the blanket fort all set up..."

He guffawed and a droplet of spittle landed on my cheek.

The Lady of the House proceeded to explain to us that the blankets were to keep the cold out, completely missing the jocularity in my jab, pointing to a small snow drift in the entryway, which had worked itself through a large 2" gap where the rest of the bottom of the door should have been.  She was also well into the beer, and kept telling me that it was okay because her daughter was babysitting her newborn and her house was clean, (which was a low-down-dirty-lie), so I didn't have to call CFS.

We quickly tidied up the call and excused ourselves.

I stood outside in the -45 C (-49 F) for a full 15 minutes, hoping to freeze any bed bugs out of my clothing should they have successfully stowed-away.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013


Blue is a very, how do I put this, particular person. He's slightly OCD and very detailed driven and I think that it is one of the reasons he's a good cop. He spent extra money to make sure all of the hangers in our house match and all of the ones in our closet sit in one direction making the clothing all facing the same way. If I have a hanger out of place, I'll hear about it! There are times where it's nice to have a husband like this and times where...well, I often thank God that he gave me a personality to be able to deal with it. You can only listen to the proper way to cut a pie or stack a burger so many times.

We had soup and sandwiches for dinner last night. I think that, for the most part, Blue is able to turn-off the obsessive personality or at least he's got enough smarts to know that he shouldn't always voice his opinion. But there are times where I can tell he wants to jump right in and show me how to do something better or more efficiently.

I made my ham sandwich and as I was picking it up a small piece of ham flopped around.

Blue: Your ham is gonna fall out.

Me: No, it's not.

Blue: Ya, it is. I saw it flop.

Me: I think it's fine. *wink*

He squared his shoulders and I laughed at him. He went about his business. I took a big bite and my ham proceeded to fall out of my sandwich and into my soup. My eyes went wide and I quickly scooped it up and shoved the whole thing into my mouth hoping he didn't see.

The worst thing when living with a particular person and is when they're proven correct in something they've tried to school you on. The best thing ever is when you end-up being correct and can put them in their 'you're not always right' place.

Well, he did see. I started laughing and he just couldn't understand why I would have made myself such a sloppy sandwich.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Roast Beef

Posted by: Blue

Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand.  Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact.  Sometimes it requires you to do something you never, ever, ever thought you'd be getting paid to do.

On Thursday, our call was a Sudden Death requiring a notification for the Next of Kin.  Pretty standard.  One of the harder parts of the job.  This one was significantly more complicated though.

The deceased was an octogenarian.  His girlfriend was also well into her eighties and suffering from the first stages of Alzheimer's.  He had died in her bed... ahem... after... uh... or during... well... there were two blister packs of Viagra found in his pockets... one was empty... um... sheesh.

So buddy was getting some in his golden years.  Her daughter didn't approve.  Then again, the old girl didn't approve of her daughter's lesbian relationship and wasn't shy to share that with the police and anyone else within earshot.  She also apparently didn't approve of the idea of a Black police officer (who happened to be the prime unit's reporting officer that night).

To further complicate things, the elderly missus had not eaten that day and was becoming more confused with all of the excitement.  She kept referring to her deceased boyfriend by her previously deceased husband's name.  Her daughter was trying to get her to eat, however the daughter happened to be the most patronizing person I have met recently and her mother was resistant to the idea of being parented by her child (naturally).

We were having difficulty ascertaining the identity and particulars of the deceased's son, so our supervisor came with us to the home of the gentleman visitor.  During our search for medications and NOK information, what should we stumble across, but a huge stockpile of improperly stored firearms.  Shit.

Most of the guns were able to fit into the gun locker which we managed to find a key for.  There was, however, a revolver which was unregistered (as restricted weapons, all handguns and a number of other varieties of firearms are required to be registered in Canada).  As there were no charges that would be laid against the dead guy, we brought the gun back to the station to be processed as a "found gun" and then turned in for testing and subsequent destruction to our firearms section.

We located the info for the son of the deceased.  He lived out of town.  The police in his jurisdiction were advised and requested to make the death notification.

We were an evening unit and the prime unit was days.  They had a little overtime already, typing up the report for the coroner.  We were dealing with the gun.  That left the elderly girlfriend and her family alone in the house to "grieve".  Unfortunately they were not grieving.  They were arguing and bickering.

Dispatch raised us on the radio.  There was now a Family Trouble call at the same address.

We headed back.

There was a neighbour over from down the street.  Per the daughter, the neighbour was known to steal from her mother.  Per the mother and the neighbour, the daughter was the one stealing.  There was apparently $100 missing from the 80 year old woman's wallet now.

No one had known about the $100 except for the woman with Alzheimer's.  Shit.

Side-note: my partner and I had already dealt with the neighbour prior to that night on a bogus theft call.  She and her boyfriend had been reporting a theft by her sister-in-law.  Upon arrival, the money had been recovered (apparently it had fallen under the couch).

There was a lot more reasoning and massaging and coaxing.  In the end, my Sergeant, partner and myself sat in the house and watched the lady eat a roast beef sandwich on rye and drink a cup of Ensure along with her pills.  Then the daughter and her lesbian partner finally satisfied, were escorted back to their car at the mother's request.  The neighbour was also removed, leaving the mother alone to go to sleep.

There were no further problems that night.

Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand.  Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact.  Sometimes it requires you to demand an eighty-something year old widow to muscle-down a dry, tasteless roast beef sandwich with too much mustard for the sake of public peace.

Sunday, January 20, 2013


Posted by: Blue

The drug trade in our city is likely similar to any other metropolitan area.

"Everyone" has pot.  Some people have meth or crack.  A few have IV drugs like heroin or morphine.  Coke comes and goes in popularity and supply abundance.  Ecstasy and other similar pills are generally limited to suburban kids who think that nothing can harm them.  Prescription drug abuse and trafficking is a whole other ball of wax that is barely ever investigated.  Everything starts at the top with organized crime; gangs.

Being high isn't a crime.  Possession is.  There are two levels of possession.  Personal use (plain old Possession of a Controlled Substance) and then there's Possession for the Purpose (dealing/trafficking).  It is also criminal to manufacture controlled substances (growing marijuana or running a meth lab etc.).

Many a time has a police officer taken away a few grams of pot and flushed it or ground it into the mud to dispose of it rather than charge someone with possession.  It's not worth the paperwork.  The judges are lenient, especially with pot or small amounts of harder drugs.  The courts are tied up enough with substantial trafficking charges for more serious substances.

Most people think of Possession as a very weak charge that police use when they are being "dictatorial" and "fascist".

The truth is, we don't care about pot.  We care about lives.  The truth, is that we see a dark, violent, filthy, dirty, horrible shadow that is cast over the drug trade.  The money to be made in drugs means that people are willing to be violent to protect their crop, or their stash, or their payments.

The plain and simple truth, is that drugs = money.  Money = guns and other weapons.  Weapons = violence.  Violence = death.

To most, the drug trade is a movie concept.  There's always some kind of South American Cartel Type in a custom suit with an Escalade and a huge villa.  He's the bad guy.  Police see the other side.  The dregs.  The end result.  The broken lives, the shattered people.

We see the dumb kid who thought he could make some extra money by running dope to different addresses get stomped out to within inches of his life because he was robbed of a big stash of meth.  Ironically, it wasn't his robbers that put the boots to him, it was his employers.  He may never walk again and he'll be eating through a straw for months, but the dealers sure made their point clear to everyone else on the payroll.

We see the broken marriages.  The wife who is choked to death because her husband is coked-out and doesn't know what he's doing.  Their 3 children will end up in the sickening foster care system.  Hopefully one or two of them will survive it without getting hooked on alcohol or drugs themselves.

We see the grow-op wars between rival gangs.  The houses that are burnt to the ground with 4 people inside or shot up with automatic weapons because they are growing pot on someone else's territory.

We see the car wrecks that kill and maim innocent people because someone chose to drive while high.  If there are any survivors of the wreck, statistics say it will be the impaired driver.  Often he'll say something like "It's not like I was drunk.  Weed enhances your observations."

We see the hooker who, at 13 years old is so desperate for another hit of meth that she sells her body to anyone and everyone.  We respond to the rape call when she doesn't get paid.  We arrest the suspect if we can find him.  We charge and process him.  We watch him get released from the charges when the victim doesn't show up in court.  Sometimes because she is too high to remember what day it is.  Sometimes because she is in the hospital after a more violent rape.  Sometimes because she has been found dead and mutilated in a dumpster.  A child, innocence shattered and then discarded like trash.

Drugs in and of themselves are only really harmful to the person taking them (except for the meth labs that explode).

It's all the fallout that police see that we really hate and want to stop.

Thursday, January 17, 2013


Posted by: Blue

Today, at my sons' doctor's office, I was pulling into the parking lot and witnessed an irate male on the side-walk yelling at a woman in an SUV.

It was clear from the body language of the pedestrian that he didn't believe her vehicle should be in his path.

He was wrong.  She was obeying all laws of the road just fine.

She ignored him and tried to drive away, acting the adult that she was.  He turned and spat on the hood of her car.  She didn't notice and drove away.

I jumped out of the driver's seat, told my wife to park and chased him down the street.

I caught up to him, tinned him and then the following conversation ensued:

"What the hell was that? You'd better cool yourself down!"

"No, I was just, I was just saying..."

"No!  You spit on her car.  That's what you were doing.  You'd better smarten your ass up!"  I poked my index finger into his chest when I said that last part.


"Get the hell outta here.  I don't want to see you again.  I'm just disgusted by that.  If I come across you in uniform, I'm gonna give you a ticket for that and we might have a longer talk about what kinds of wants or orders you might have.  That was disgusting behaviour.  And I'm gonna tell you, she was in the right with her driving.  You didn't even have a reason to be upset, let alone spit on her car."

"Okay.  I'm sorry."


The rudeness, childishness and stupidity of some people is really what makes me mad.  My partner calls me the Manners Cop when I tell arrestees to mind their pleases and thank-you's or pull someone over just to explain to them that it's not polite to cut someone off in traffic.  I have no problem with that.  A few more manners and some consideration of others would go a long way in this world.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Holiday Schedule

Posted by: Blue

Over December and January, our regular schedules go for a tumble so that we can arrange every year to have one side off on Christmas and the other side off on New Year's.  This year, our shifts got Christmas off.

In order to arrange everything fairly so that we all get the same amount of days off combined with days, evenings and nights worked, not to mention our guaranteed 2 weekends off per 4 weeks worked, we end up having a very scrambled schedule.

This week, I worked 4 nights and took the 5th one off.  Now I have 7 days off until I go back.  The trade-off is that next week I only have 2 days off before I head back in for Evenings.

Thursday, January 10, 2013


Posted by: Blue

When a person has been arrested, they must be positively identified under the Identification of Criminals Act.  This includes fingerprinting and photographs as well as documenting any tattoos, birthmarks, scars, missing fingers or limbs, missing or broken teeth, height, hair colour, body type, sex, apparent and actual race, and any other distinguishing features.

When you are fingerprinted with our Service, you are given a fingerprint number for filing into our internal database.  When you are added into the federal database, you are given a federal number; an FPS Number (Fingerprint System Number).

When we "run" people, one of the first indicators which we look for is if they have "numbers".  If they have numbers it means they've been arrested.  If they have numbers on our city database, it means they have a picture on file.

Most of the people we deal with have no ID.  They also love to lie to us especially when they have conditions they are breaching or warrants they are evading arrest for.  It has become accepted by the courts to identify a person by way of their photograph on our system.

Many a time have I spent finding someone's photo on the system by detail searching tattoos or scars, even height, weight and address.  When I have to resort to that, ten to one, a little red icon pops up next to the person's real name indicating a warrant.  If there's no warrant, I know that they're breaching court ordered conditions such as a curfew or not to consume intoxicants.  Then we take their birthdate and legal name off of our system, run it on the federal system; CPIC (Canadian Police Information Centre).  Bingo, up pop the conditions of release and previous convictions.

When a person lies about their name, I usually give them a couple of opportunities to come clean, making sure that they understand that if I have to take them for fingerprinting just to ID them that they're gonna be dealing with a hell of a grumpy cop.  If they persist in lying, there are two criminal charges to be decided between: Personation With Intent to Gain Advantage (if the person they are claiming to be is a real person, whether living or dead), or Public Mischief; Cause Someone Else to be Suspected (If the person they are claiming to be does not exist).

Not every time, but almost every time, you can tell when someone is lying almost immediately.  They fidget and think too hard.  They take longer to answer simple questions and they change their answers to the same question asked two different ways.  You can also get a gut feeling over whether or not someone should have numbers and then question why the person with face tattoos that say "West Side", "OG" (original gangster), or "Thug Life 4 Eva" doesn't have a picture on the system.

Other dead give-away tattoos I have seen that make it very hard to lie about who you really are:

  • Tear drop tattoos
  • FPS number tattooed on the neck or anywhere else (this makes things very easy when we get a surveillance camera still of a robbery or something similar)
  • Anything written in cursive on your neck or face
  • Dollar signs
  • The word "Gangster" anywhere on your body
  • Anything that is clearly done in faded ballpoint pen ink, designating it as "prison ink"
  • Any number of gang abbreviations or initials
  • Profanities tattooed anywhere
  • Your own name tattooed on yourself

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

False Perspective

Posted by: Blue

Last night we responded to a male holding a knife to his throat in the shower.

We got there moments after my Patrol Sergeant did.

The guy was locked in his bathroom and the shower was running.

"John, come on out here.  Put the knife on the floor and show us your hands.  We have a taser."

"Just use a nail or something on the door.  It's one of those locks you can open with a nail."

"I don't have a nail, John.  Open the door or I'm gonna kick it down."

"Am I going to jail?"

"Well, John, you haven't hurt anyone have you?"


"And you haven't threatened anyone have you?"


"Then why would I take you to jail?  But I need you to open the door so that I don't have to kick it down and taser you."

"Just a sec.  I'm gonna put my robe on."

John finally came out of the bathroom.  We cuffed him and searched him and then took him into custody under the Mental Health Act.

On the way to the hospital for a mandatory psychological evaluation, John said "I just wish my wife hadn't come home.  She's so crazy.  She makes everything worse.  She's just so crazy."