Holy Sh*t! Last night as I drove home from work, I noticed flashing lights of one of the local university's police cars (actually an SUV) behind me. It seemed like they were trying to get through so I tried to pull over the best I could. As I waited for them to pass, I noticed they were not even trying to get around me.
I wondered, what the hell? Did I do something wrong? Do I have a light out? Did I run the light? That is just what I need in my life at this very special moment, a ticket from our very finest. And a university cop, no less.
Well, I realized I was NOT the target of their flashing lights. While watching them in my rear view mirror, I saw two plain clothed detectives race up to the Jeep behind me and one of them pulled a gun (I think) and pointed it into the car. The passenger was dragged out of the car and thrown against the car! Finally, I realized I should probably get the hell out of there. I think my heart did not stop racing until I got home ten minutes later.
Initially, I thought this was my first time seeing a police officer in action, guns drawn, taking care of business.
And then I remembered Salt Lake City about six years ago. Prof. H. and I lived together, in sin no less, in a duplex next to an alley.
At three in the morning, we heard all sorts of commotion in the alley below our bedroom window.
Dammit, I thought. I have to work tomorrow.
When I looked out the window, I saw a circle of kids, probably college aged, watching a fight break out. A drunken loud fight right below my bedroom window. Thanks, jackasses.
We waited for it to stop. And waited. And waited. During this time, we thought we heard someone kicking in our fence. Finally fed up, we called the cops. The 911 operator told me that we were the fifth call about this incident.
Shortly after calling, a cruiser arrived and we could hear the crowd breaking up and running off. Except for the Genius. Oh no. Genius stood his ground. No WAY was he going down without a fight. By this point, we were wide awake and decided to take in the show. We peered out our second story front window for a front row view of the action. If I had the time, I would have popped some popcorn for the ultimate gawking experience.
As I said, Genius would not give up. He stood on the sidewalk wielding a very dangerous weapon. Perhaps it could even be described as a weapon of MASS DESTRUCTION. What was it? A Tiki torch. Seriously. One of those light weight bamboo party torches you pick up at Fred Meyer or Albertson's on sale for $5.00. He meant business fer sure.
An officer, who I believe had his gun out, shouted "PUT DOWN THE STICK!" or something to that effect. He shouted this several times.
Genius kept asking in typical drunken slurred speech: "WHO CALLED THE COPS? I WANNA KNOW! WHO CALLED?"
Prof. H. and I crouched down a little further when we thought Genius looked up in our direction.
Finally, after this brilliant interaction, he dropped his deadly party weapon and the cops threw him to the ground. Of course, on our front lawn. At this time, Genius was blubbering like a baby and shouting incoherently about some girl. Wah wah wah.
Eventually, he was taken away in the cruiser and Prof. H. and I were able to return to bed.
Ahhh, the excitement I witness...