Raindogblue

Auto Theft

 

 

Car is up 31 percent in the pond.

 

Top Five Stolen Cars in the city. 

 

1994 Honda Accord

1998 Honda Civic

1991 Toyota Camry

1996 Subaru Legacy

1999 Ford Pickup (full size)

 

 

Doin'

 

 

Leaving a beef, an African American man flags me down and stomps up to my car.

He says, "What you doin'? You messin' with an another innocent black man?"

 

No. Two guys were just fighting. The loser went to detox.

 

He grins, "Ha! Well, there's nothin' I can say about that. You have a good day."

 

 

 

 

 

Ride

 

 

A transient flags me down.

He's lost. 

I give him a ride to a shelter.

He has a voucher.

 

On the way, he says,

"This is sure a pretty city. 

A lot of tent campers though"

 

 

 

 

 

Guilty

 

The man who shot my brother was found guilty.

It took the jury 21 minutes to deliberate.

 

Sentencing will be in August.

 

 

Numbers.........

 

The Number of Officers in the City are down to 883. At one time, we had 1047.

 

Calls for Service are up by 4000 for the first four months of the year  for the same time period last year and 15,000 more than in  2012.

 

Self-Initiated calls are down 12,000 for the first four months of the year for the same time period last year.

 

 

Spoonching

 

 

On 6th, I saw a beggar playing the spoons.

His cardboard signed read, "Need Change

Spooner than later."

 

 

 

 

Weird

 

In the Alphabet Blocks, I saw a woman

with silver and purple hair riding her bike

with her dachshund'shead sticking out

of the top of her black dragonscale backpack.

 

 

 

Arch

 

 

Flopped

 

On the third floor of parking garage at 4th and Mourning,

a woman had her flip-flop stick on the gas pedal.

She panicked, press down, and rammed her car

into a wall hard enough for the air bag to deploy.

 

 

 

Dwindling

 

 

 

Pam is tweaking in a tent.

 

Four days ago, she walked out of the hospital 

against medical advice with a PICC line in her chest.  

She was on her tenth day of a six week 

antibiotic treatment for Endocarditis.

 

She refuses to go back.

 

Pam is in her ninth day of a manic phase.

 

She was first diagnosed 

with mental illness at seven.

She was first hospitalized at nine.

She has been in and out ever since.

 

Pam is self medicating with heroin and meth.

Every four inches under her feet is an uncapped rig.

 

Pam is forty-six. She is five-four and weighs

around 300 lbs. Large surgery scars stretch

across her knees and shoulders. Sores spot her body.

She can't walk without a cane.

 

Pam is hot, on paper, and has two warrants.

 

She is screaming at me, "This is bullshit!"

 

I look in her eyes, nod, and say,

You're right. It's my job.

I am a professional bullshit catcher. 

 

She shrieks, "You don't care."

 

You're right, I don't care, 

but I will be kind and patient with you.

 

She took a breath, calmed, and smiled.

"Thank you."

 

It took her an hour to smoke a cigarette 

and pack two bags. We double cuffed her

and left without a scrap.