One night last week, after working all day, driving an hour to get home, feeding the critters, and walking the dog, I ventured back out of the house to make a Publix run. It is a short drive and I managed to find a most excellent parking spot. After I got out of the car and started walking to the store entrance, I was nearly shoulder to shoulder with a member of law enforcement. He confidently and with an air of grandiose ego law enforcement obnoxiousness moved ahead of me. My immediate reaction was my gut clenching with annoyance but then I shot his back with a quick once over.
His head was a buzz cut and his uniform was dark green. He looked surprising old to still be on the streets and not doing desk work. Maybe he just isn't that good and never got promoted.
Sitting low on his waist he had on his super hero belt with all of its interesting and deadly gadgets intact. I bypassed his ass. I was just not interested. Then I saw his shoes. What the heck?! They were so shiny and perfect in their patent leather awesomeness! Light rays from the Publix signage bounced off of them. How does a cop, or sheriff's office deputy, or whatever manage to keep his shoes so clean? Did he not have to run down any bad guys? Did he not have to ummm....do his JOB.....and in the process get his shoes dirty?
The Publix near my house is small. Instead of visiting and feeling regular sized, one feels like they are a part of a dollhouse. I'm not sure what they were thinking when they decided to move into the space. Maybe it was, "Let's find enough space to stock it with half the stuff we normally sell so when people walk the aisles they won't have trouble deciding what to buy because there isn't much stuff." To make up for the lack of space to put stuff and sell stuff, someone decided to make the entry area unnecessarily large. (Is this the same as when men buy large trucks?)
So, I'm still behind Mr. Law Enforcement when he stops to pick up a hand basket. I need a basket too so I stop. I wait as he chats up the homeless population 4 deep sitting on the long bench against the wall that one must walk by in order to get into the second door which leads the shopper to the inner sanctum of shopping. As Mr. L. E., officer to you, is talking I am staring at the pile of hand baskets willing him to get started. He reaches down and lifts up the top basket and I am thinking, "Finally!" but wait! He lifts up the basket under the top basket, too. He then lifts in unison the top two baskets and takes the 3rd one down. What? WHAT?
Does her really think the 3rd one down is cleaner, newer, better? Why is the 3rd one down better? Have the germs had more time to die on it? Then it dawned on me. That's why his shoes are so clean. One word - OCD. Okay, not one word but one acronym. Anyway, he's a little spit shine crazy, isn't he?
Now it was my turn to pick up a basket. I looked in the top one and no garbage was in it so I took it.
Showing posts with label cop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cop. Show all posts
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Sunday, May 9, 2010
That Morning - Part 1 Wednesday, May 5, 2010
At 1:51 am on November 8, 2008, my eyes flew open to the sound of a woman screaming. I had woken up about an hour earlier from a hot flash so I wasn't in a deep sleep when I heard her horrifying words, "Oh my God! Oh my God! You have to go! You've got to leave!" Think of the worst horror movie you ever watched where someone sounds scared and then double the emotional impact.
I got out of bed, moved the shade, and looked out the bedroom window to scan the street. Even though it was foggy out, there is a street lamp in front of my neighbor's house to the left of our house and the front porch light was on at the house to the left of the one directly across the street. I saw a man's outline standing on the top of the steps connecting to the porch. He was not tall but was bulky. He had mass. He was thick. I couldn't see the woman, but he was talking to someone on the porch and I assumed it was her. I couldn't make out what he was saying. Only that he was talking. You know how the fog can sometimes amplify noise instead of muffle it? That is what happened that early morning. There was a car parked on the other side of the streeet partially blocking the house's driveway and it had its parking lights on. I could tell it was a 4-door sedan. I realized I really had to pee so I walked to the back of the house, went to the bathroom, and came back. I didn't hear anymore talking but as I looked out the window again the car squeeled its tires as it left. I didn't see anyone on the porch. I figured that she told him to leave and that is what he did. End of story.
I laid back down in bed and not two minutes later I heard all kinds of sirens. What the hell?? This time I put the shade up and there was an ambulance and fire trucks and police cars. I raced down the hall and screamed to Jamie that something bad was going on across the street. Poor guy! Here he went to the back bedroom because the dog and/or I was snoring and then gets woken up with me screaming something bad is happening. We both ran downstairs and looked out our front window. Someone was getting CPR and the street was inundated with uniforms and strobe lights in primary colors. I told Jamie what I had seen and heard.
Now the neighborhood awoke and people made their way to the scene. I didn't move from the living rooom. Occasionally Jamie hung out on our front porch and reported back in. The sound the woman made when she screamed those words kept replaying in my head. I thought the guy had surely killed her and then tore out of there.
Someone was loaded in the ambulance while CPR continued and after the ambulance left we could clearly see the blood on the steps and the front porch. There was a lot of blood on the steps. I became nauseous thinking that I may have heard her last words.
We saw plain clothes detectives with flashlights searching the front yard, street, and sidewalk. Those little markers were being set down. The crazy lady that lives directly across the street came out of her house in her bathrobe holding her flashlight and added her detective prowess to the professional's. She was walking straight into the murder scene! I could not believe what I was seeing! In her stupidity she was going to contaminate the scene. What was going on in her mind?? That she was helping?? Did she even know what she was helping to look for? Every law enforcement person must have seen her at the same time because anyone that was official started yelling at her to stop. She said something about she thought they were looking for one of her cats. Don't even try to figure it out.
The techs pulled up and did their job. Family members drove up.
A uniformed cop came to our house and asked Jamie if anyone had seen or heard anything. Jamie opened the storm door and poked his head inside to tell me what the cop wanted. I told him I didn't have clothes on. He would have to tell the cop I had to get dressed and would be right out. I was shaking trying to get on a pair of pants and a T-shirt. I couldn't bother with a bra. At that point it was a way too complicated task.
I briefly told the cop the basics. He interrupted to ask a few questions, jotted down some notes, and then left to continue his house-to-house canvasing.
Eventually the street cleared. The excitement petered out and the neighbors all went back to their houses and back to bed. As Jamie and I were getting ready to do the same, a fire truck pulled up to the house. What was going on now? The firemen unloaded a hose from the truck and meticulously sprayed the blood off the stairs and the porch. I had no idea they did that. I thought it was one of the nicest things I had ever seen anyone do.
We finally went back to bed, too.
I got out of bed, moved the shade, and looked out the bedroom window to scan the street. Even though it was foggy out, there is a street lamp in front of my neighbor's house to the left of our house and the front porch light was on at the house to the left of the one directly across the street. I saw a man's outline standing on the top of the steps connecting to the porch. He was not tall but was bulky. He had mass. He was thick. I couldn't see the woman, but he was talking to someone on the porch and I assumed it was her. I couldn't make out what he was saying. Only that he was talking. You know how the fog can sometimes amplify noise instead of muffle it? That is what happened that early morning. There was a car parked on the other side of the streeet partially blocking the house's driveway and it had its parking lights on. I could tell it was a 4-door sedan. I realized I really had to pee so I walked to the back of the house, went to the bathroom, and came back. I didn't hear anymore talking but as I looked out the window again the car squeeled its tires as it left. I didn't see anyone on the porch. I figured that she told him to leave and that is what he did. End of story.
I laid back down in bed and not two minutes later I heard all kinds of sirens. What the hell?? This time I put the shade up and there was an ambulance and fire trucks and police cars. I raced down the hall and screamed to Jamie that something bad was going on across the street. Poor guy! Here he went to the back bedroom because the dog and/or I was snoring and then gets woken up with me screaming something bad is happening. We both ran downstairs and looked out our front window. Someone was getting CPR and the street was inundated with uniforms and strobe lights in primary colors. I told Jamie what I had seen and heard.
Now the neighborhood awoke and people made their way to the scene. I didn't move from the living rooom. Occasionally Jamie hung out on our front porch and reported back in. The sound the woman made when she screamed those words kept replaying in my head. I thought the guy had surely killed her and then tore out of there.
Someone was loaded in the ambulance while CPR continued and after the ambulance left we could clearly see the blood on the steps and the front porch. There was a lot of blood on the steps. I became nauseous thinking that I may have heard her last words.
We saw plain clothes detectives with flashlights searching the front yard, street, and sidewalk. Those little markers were being set down. The crazy lady that lives directly across the street came out of her house in her bathrobe holding her flashlight and added her detective prowess to the professional's. She was walking straight into the murder scene! I could not believe what I was seeing! In her stupidity she was going to contaminate the scene. What was going on in her mind?? That she was helping?? Did she even know what she was helping to look for? Every law enforcement person must have seen her at the same time because anyone that was official started yelling at her to stop. She said something about she thought they were looking for one of her cats. Don't even try to figure it out.
The techs pulled up and did their job. Family members drove up.
A uniformed cop came to our house and asked Jamie if anyone had seen or heard anything. Jamie opened the storm door and poked his head inside to tell me what the cop wanted. I told him I didn't have clothes on. He would have to tell the cop I had to get dressed and would be right out. I was shaking trying to get on a pair of pants and a T-shirt. I couldn't bother with a bra. At that point it was a way too complicated task.
I briefly told the cop the basics. He interrupted to ask a few questions, jotted down some notes, and then left to continue his house-to-house canvasing.
Eventually the street cleared. The excitement petered out and the neighbors all went back to their houses and back to bed. As Jamie and I were getting ready to do the same, a fire truck pulled up to the house. What was going on now? The firemen unloaded a hose from the truck and meticulously sprayed the blood off the stairs and the porch. I had no idea they did that. I thought it was one of the nicest things I had ever seen anyone do.
We finally went back to bed, too.
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