Friday, January 16, 2009

Change of Heart

This probably will not come as a big surprise to any of you, least of all those who know me.

I am not fond of the police. Granted my dealings with them are not in the best situations often but they have had their chances to come through for me and they have not. It's the same rude coldness I receive that leads me to believe that in order to become a member you must sacrifice your heart.

Let's go back in time shall we (oh it will be brief, I swear).

My first speeding ticket was given to me on my 22nd birthday. I know I deserved it but I only had my cute little black standard five-speed laser a few days when it happened. I cried as he gave it to me, a $200 ticket, and no amount of tears stopped him from being heartless.

I fought it. Went to court and sat before an officer and the magistrate and when the magistrate asked me if I liked policemen and I said no, I think he was surprised by my candid answer. I had a copy of my driving record which I presented. He then asked me what I would do if I were in trouble. My reply was the last thing I would do is call the police.

They threw it out. I was lucky but to be fair, in general I didn't speed. (but buzzed driving was another matter entirely, back then)

Then there was the time I was due with my first baby. My man went to the grocery store with me because I could hardly move. When were done shopping it was pouring outside, so he offered to get the van and I waited under cover. He pulled up and as we put in groceries, a policeman pulled up, got out of his car and began to yell at us. He told my man that if he didn't get back in his car immediately and get out of the fire lane, he would be ticketed. He then sat in his car, in the fire lane, and watched me waddle with my cart, in the rain, over to the van.


Then there was the time my man got into a car accident, right up the street from the house. He called me, after it happened, asked me to come down and get any belongings out of the van before they towed it. I did that, watched my man get loaded up in a stretcher and head off. As I approached the policeman to ask about getting his things, he was already in the van. He had my husbands wallet open and was searching through all the pockets of it. As I stood right in front of him, watching him do this and asking what he was looking for, he stopped, looked right at me and said "you know what I'm looking for." Except there was nothing for him to find.


Then there was the time four police cruisers came to my house for a noise disturbance. I had just gotten home myself so when I went downstairs to greet them, I held out my hand to introduce myself and the police officer wouldn't take it. He immediately and forcefully yelled at me and told me that I needed to make the noise stop. There was no politeness, he didn't care who I was, that I knew the Chief and how I work for the Town. To be fair, they had come earlier but couldn't gain access to the house to speak to anyone.

Then there was the time ... well I could keep going but it's just more of being treated badly, automatically. It causes me a huge amount of anxiety anytime I see them. In school, years ago (oh hush) we were taught that they were good, that you could trust them, that they would understand. No one mentioned that they can be big fat jerks.

Now, this brings us to yesterday. My husband called, not more than five minutes after he left the house. He was pulled over, didn't realize that his license had expired (his birthday was Dec. 9th) and now they were about to tow the truck.

WTF people? He explained that the policeman pulled him over because he failed to stop at a stop sign. I find that incredible hard to believe because the truck is a standard and that stop sign is on a steep hill. But who knows. Personally, if I saw a police car coming on the road I was turning on, I'd of waited before going. Everyone knows the best place for a police car is in FRONT of you, not BEHIND you.

So I go down there. I see the cop. He says nothing to me. My man is just sitting in the truck. Pissed. I ask him not to say anything. He answers he has little to say with an expired license.

I should mention here the state I live in SUCKS. And we are no longer getting any sort of a reminder when your license is about to expire.

We make a deal with the tow truck driver. We pay him $90 in cash (Ugh!) and he drops the truck off in our driveway. I bring my man to work and I take the ticket he got with me.

I have worked in my town for years. As much as I loathe it, I am at the Police Station weekly. It is where you pick up your meeting materials for my night job. I have seen the Chief. He knows me by name, he makes it a point to say hello when he sees me and he also knows my boss. I thought maybe, just maybe, if the planets were in alignment and there wasn't a full moon, I can make this whole thing go away.

When I say my heart was in my throat for the phone call, I'm lying. It was GIGANTIC and felt like sandpaper in my throat as I waited on hold for the Chief's assistant. A gal who is super nice and great to work with. I said my hello's and then she put me through.

I believe at this point I turned no less than six shades of red.

The Chief got on the phone, he said hello and then said "I hope nothing is wrong." I believe at this point I turned two more shades of red and started sweating. I explained what had happened. That the ticket my husband had gotten had no fines on it, but said he needed to report to the court and what did all that mean?

My boss was sitting with me the entire time and by the end of the day yesterday, he was all about teasing me, imitating my tone of voice asking the above question.

Oh the support. Feel the love.

I diligently answered questions about it and he then asked for my number to call me back. I thanked him. Hung up. And just about passed out on the floor.

I didn't have to wait long. Maybe ten minutes. He called back, on an untraceable line, said it was all good. Bring it back to him and keep it between the three of us. (while I do realize that only works if I don't tell anyone, I can't help myself, blogfriends, it was very cool).

I have to say I spent the day yesterday thinking about the Chief and thinking about how fucking lucky I am to do the things I do, to know the people I know and sometimes ... to get a much needed break.


Sassy said...

Wow. Well I think you deserved that much needed break after what you've been through before.

Over the summer, I got pulled over. They basically treated me like a criminal. Assuming I had drugs in the car. I didn't have drugs in the car, hell, I don't even look like I do drugs! lol They saw an empty pack of cigs and thought I had something. Whatever.

It pissed me off. They automatically assumed I was guilty of something. They were on a power trip. So I know what you're saying!


Happy Friday!

Improbable Joe said...

That IS a lucky break. The cops are scumbags generally and I don't trust a single one of them to do the right thing, ever. I also assume that they steal, cheat on their taxes, cheat on their spouses, and kick their pets... but that might be going a little far.