You're Under Arrest
As I was sitting at my desk at lunch time today quietly eating my tuna fish and cottage cheese and Blogging my ass off, these two very big, very (color-removed)cops rushed into my office and closed the door. They were very agitated and I could tell they were convinced that I was guilty of something. I thought to myself, “Since when is Blogging at lunchtime a crime?” Now if they had come an hour earlier, I might have been a little more worried. But for heavens sake, this was my hour to do whatever the hell I pleased, or so I thought. So without even introducing themselves, they proceeded to grill me. Here’s the exact conversation, more or less:
Cop 1: Did you hit a car in the parking lot?
Me: Of course not. What makes you think that I did?
Cop 2: Someone hit the car next to yours and there is paint on your bumper.
Me: Oh, you mean the blue paint on the front right bumper from 10 years ago when my husband hit a car?
Cop 1: How can I reach your husband?
Me: His number at home is 703-xxx-xxxx. His cell is 703-xxx-xxxx.
Cop 2: Are you sure you didn’t hit that car?
Me: Positive because it wasn’t there when I pulled in (you friggin’ idiot!)
Cop 1: Oh, OK.
As they left, I could see that they were already dialing my husband to corroborate my story. Then the thought suddenly struck me, what if my husband doesn’t remember hitting that car (which he never actually admitted to me that he did)? I mean, really, 10 years is a long time. I expected that they would be back with handcuffs if he didn’t remember.
SHIT! By the time I got through to him on his cell, they had already called. He was grocery shopping in Whole Foods. He only picked up because he could see that Federal Police were calling and he thought maybe I had been in some sort of accident. They were as rude to him as they were to me. But, thank God, he remembered the paint and even remembered that it was blue. No Alzheimer’s here!
Then instead of being scared, I got mad! How dare these bimbos storm into my peaceful office making false accusations without so much as introducing themselves! I went down the hall to our security office and got the number of the office in charge. It turned out to be the Office of Homeland Security. Wouldn’t you think they would be looking for terrorists, not for people putting dents in cars in the parking lot? I guess terrorism is not such a hot topic where I am any more. After a few attempts I got a real voice on the phone. I proceeded to relate my story and voiced my dissatisfaction with the unprofessional treatment I had received. The unsympathetic voice at the other end tried to say that was what they were supposed to do. I pressed for something of an apology, at least for “I’m really sorry they disrupted your lunch.” Instead he said he would round up Moe and Joe or whatever their names were and find out what happened. He promised to call me back. I never got a return call and had cooled down by the time I left at the end of the day.
When I got to the parking lot, I realized it was not even a blue car parked next to mine. It was white! Maybe the owner of the blue car had moved it next to someone else with a speck of blue paint on his bumper, hoping to pin the crime on another unsuspecting employee. I can now be sympathetic with the thousands of people who are being falsely accused every day in this country. It SUCKS!
Cop 1: Did you hit a car in the parking lot?
Me: Of course not. What makes you think that I did?
Cop 2: Someone hit the car next to yours and there is paint on your bumper.
Me: Oh, you mean the blue paint on the front right bumper from 10 years ago when my husband hit a car?
Cop 1: How can I reach your husband?
Me: His number at home is 703-xxx-xxxx. His cell is 703-xxx-xxxx.
Cop 2: Are you sure you didn’t hit that car?
Me: Positive because it wasn’t there when I pulled in (you friggin’ idiot!)
Cop 1: Oh, OK.
As they left, I could see that they were already dialing my husband to corroborate my story. Then the thought suddenly struck me, what if my husband doesn’t remember hitting that car (which he never actually admitted to me that he did)? I mean, really, 10 years is a long time. I expected that they would be back with handcuffs if he didn’t remember.
SHIT! By the time I got through to him on his cell, they had already called. He was grocery shopping in Whole Foods. He only picked up because he could see that Federal Police were calling and he thought maybe I had been in some sort of accident. They were as rude to him as they were to me. But, thank God, he remembered the paint and even remembered that it was blue. No Alzheimer’s here!
Then instead of being scared, I got mad! How dare these bimbos storm into my peaceful office making false accusations without so much as introducing themselves! I went down the hall to our security office and got the number of the office in charge. It turned out to be the Office of Homeland Security. Wouldn’t you think they would be looking for terrorists, not for people putting dents in cars in the parking lot? I guess terrorism is not such a hot topic where I am any more. After a few attempts I got a real voice on the phone. I proceeded to relate my story and voiced my dissatisfaction with the unprofessional treatment I had received. The unsympathetic voice at the other end tried to say that was what they were supposed to do. I pressed for something of an apology, at least for “I’m really sorry they disrupted your lunch.” Instead he said he would round up Moe and Joe or whatever their names were and find out what happened. He promised to call me back. I never got a return call and had cooled down by the time I left at the end of the day.
When I got to the parking lot, I realized it was not even a blue car parked next to mine. It was white! Maybe the owner of the blue car had moved it next to someone else with a speck of blue paint on his bumper, hoping to pin the crime on another unsuspecting employee. I can now be sympathetic with the thousands of people who are being falsely accused every day in this country. It SUCKS!
posted by Barbara at 10:04 PM
4 Comments:
I know it wasn't D.C. cops, but I'm taking this opportunity to say this: When my building and neighborhood became the scene of burglaries, I had an incident with a man assualting me at the front door and pushed me out of the way to get in our bldg. I called 911 several times and no one showed. I had witnesses too, but they were too busy checking out Krispy Kreme. Yet, yet, yet, those f*ckers can harass me about my freaking 10 year old dogs not being on a leash when all they do is walk right next to me, not bothering a soul.
I'm so over the D.C. cops. They are F*CKING useless and I would tell them that to their fat, donut stuffing faces.
I feel better. And I'm glad you're not in jail or anything.
Wowza. What a day.
Wait, Velvet...can you clarify how you 'really' feel? You were a bit ambiguous.
Amazing how the guys who are supposed to protect us are best positioned to make us feel like victims. I've had similar experiences in Montgomery County, where a paunchy cop attempted to pick me up WHEN I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL, and PG County, where the cops never bothered to show up after a mugging outside my window. Maryland's finest.
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