Work is a spin.
There's too few officers for too many calls.
Nothing works. Victories are few.
Dispatch picks me for the bad call of the minute:
Naked guy at the train station.
No good comes from naked.
Naked is super high or vey schizophrenic.
In crack alley, I'm betting on a meth mix.
An ambulance has staged.
Ghost Hunter, Conquistador, and C3K
are taking to him in the parking lot
when I arrive.
Naked guy is twenty, 6'2",
He's stock still, arms at his side,
His eyes are big and bulging and red.
He is barely in his own body.
C3K is a great talker,
but naked guy isn't
having any of it.
I tag in.
How are you feeling?
You must be hot.
Do you have a fever?
Do you feel dizzy?
Somebody said you were in the Women's bathroom.
Where you trying to cool down?
"I am trying not to burst."
I think you should go to the hospital.
I slowly nod.
His eyes shift to me.
They will help you not burst.
It's a good place to be.
We call up the ambulance.
A fire rig pulls up code.
I am waiting for the fight.
These are good guys.
I nod again.
Let's get on the gurney.
He moves and sits
on the gurney.
The ambulance crew wants
him covered with a sheet.
He won't be covered,
throws it aside.
It's the wrong fight, but they insist.
I whisper in the officers' ears
to each hold down a limb
when the signal is given.
I make sure the medic
readies a sedative.
We grab a limb, strap him down,
and belt him in as he's injected.
As we walk away, I'm teased about my
head nodding and jedi mind tricks.