Raindogblue

Protest Season

 

With the warmer weather, the pond is back into the protest season. There is not a "direct action" of "peaceful protest" every night, but window are smashed and fires are set four to five times a week. Most evenings are spent on a reaction squad in a to attempt to ward  off even more extreme actions as calls sit with no officers available to take them. 

 

 

Stoma

 

 

Mope's tossed a fire hydrant cap through the plate glass window off Beggar's. He's left his ID on scene and the residents of the building shared a pic they'd snapped. Hanz and I find him a few blocks away. When I tell him he's under arrest, Mike says, "For breaking a window?"

As I search him, his pockets have all been cut. There's nothing on him, so I say is there anything else I should know? 

He says, "Yeah, I have stomach injury."

What is it?

"I don't know."

I lift his shirt and look. He has a stoma larger than my fist. He should be wearing a colostomy bag. Instead, he has a hole in his abdomen and rings of fecal matter circling it.

Do you need medical?

"No."

Do you want and ambulance.

"No."

 I transport him to jail and point out his condition to staff. The jail nurses refuse him, so I send him to the hospital via ambulance with a citation for felony criminal mischief and second for two outstanding warrants. 

 

 

 

Edward Hypo Hands

 

On 12th, a 65 year old mope is gakked and primed. He's emptied four bags of rigs and stuck them in his arms and hands. When I arrive, he has three stuck in the back of his left hand as he smokes a cheap cigar. With encouragement, he removes them one by one and steps away from the pile of used needles. 

In the pond, crank, crack, and heroin are legal and due to Covid, I can't book for Dis Con, so I send him on his way and Sharps the hundred hypodermics left on the sidewalk.  

 

 

Number Four

 

At court, I testified at a DV trial. Per the DDA, it's only the fourth trial in the county since the pandemic outbreak. 

 

 

The Old Vic

 

 

In the Alphabet Blocks, a trio of women are smoking on a corner. As I cruise by, one calls out, “Honey, why are you driving that ugly old car?”

Because I am an ugly, old guy.  Besides, I love this car.

The women laugh.

The one says, “I shouldn’t talk, you should see my bike!”

 

 

 

 

 

And Again

 

As of 4/2/21, Roll Calls are allowed to be in person again.

 

 

Illuminate

 

 

 

 

 

No Longer

 

Over the last year, the church on the edge of downtown has been a place of refuge. As official rest stop and contact office for officers,  the church opened their doors to us 24 hours a day offering the cleanest bathrooms in the city, snacks, and cold water. As of today, the office is closed and they no longer want us on the property. The congregation finds our presence too intimidating. 

 

 

 

Mike

 

Mike is coated in feces, crusted and wet.

He's naked, hair dredded.

Mike hears voices, quarreling with a plant.

He thinks it's 1980. 

He doesn't beef the POH, but I doubt the hospital

will keep him for more than a few hours. 

 

 

Delayed Due to Budget Issues

 

The city is delaying any repairs to patrol cars costing more than $500. 

The consequence is creating a shortage of cars, so C shifters have to wait for A shifters to come in find cars.