“7David4”
7David4.
“7David4. Check a drunk down. 14th and Whim.”
7David 4. Copy.
On scene, I find a mope, young and dumb,
passed out on the sidewalk, curled around
an empty bottle of vodka.
It’s cold. It’s dark.
He’s shivering as he sleeps.
I toss the bottle, call the wagon,
and pat him down for weapons.
The mope starts to stir.
Relax. You’re drunk.
You’re goin’ to detox,
to sober up.
He looks at me.
“Nah, I gonna git mad.”
Why wouldja want to do that?
Relax.
“No. I’m gonna git mad.
Let’s do it. Let’s do it.”
He stands.
You’re not goin’ anywhere.
I grab his left arm and wrist, put him in an escort hold.
He spins in, tries to square up to fight.
I switch the hold: reverse the wrist,
roll my fore arm over the back of his bicep.
His chest pitches forward and down.
I have the arm bar.
He tries to resist.
His legs stiffen.
I hook my right foot behind his left.
I shove the arm bar back.
He trips, falls.
I keep the bar, guide him to the grass, face first.
I drop my right knee into his shoulder.
His arm is a lever. His shoulder is the fulcrum.
He’s pinned. He can’t move.
I grab the mike.
7David4. Step up cover.This guy’s squirrelly.
“7David4. Copy. Non-emergency off the air until cover arrives.”
I hear sirens in the distance, growing in number.
Mope says, “Okay, okay,
I’m done!”
Then, relax.
Put your right hand behind your back.
In the twenty seconds it takes Grumpy to arrive, the man’s cuffed.