That Is Not My Fetish

That is not my fetish.

The Call: Suspicious Party

1800 hours, my partner and I had just come on duty, we were actually still getting our cars loaded up when we got dispatched to an apartment complex in regard to a suspicious party.

The caller reported that there was a male party who did not live there sitting on the back step of one of the buildings smoking marijuana.

ZOMG MARIJUANA!?!
I think the actual phrase I shouted to my partner across the lot was "Whoopty fuckin'-doo."
We get calls on suspicious parties all the time, and about 90% of the time the reporting party says "They're smoking THE marijuana!" 110% of the time the reporting party has no idea what marijuana actually smells like, and less than 1% of the time do we actually give a shit about your weed.

Unless you got a brick or a truck-load

Seriously.
But you have to exercise at least a *little* bit of effort in hiding it because it's still illegal where I work.

I move like the wind

So my partner and I head that way, figuring we'll probably find some kid that lives there who's just hanging out minding his own damn business; if we even find anyone there at all.

We get to the building and as we're approaching I tell my partner I'm going to cut through the building's common hallway to the back door where the suspicious party is supposed to be; and tell him to head around the outside of the building to the corner. Even though we weren't expecting this to be much - we still have to approach it like it could turn into something bad.

As I walk toward the back door, I can see just the top part of a person's head through the window on the door. He's a black male, seated on the back step. I very quietly walk right up to the back door and peer at him through the window.

Huh. He is smoking a joint, I can see it and smell it. He's been here for a while because he's got two empty cans of Grape Soda sitting next to him on the stoop. I radio my partner and let him know that I can see the guy, and to come on around the corner, I'm going to contact him.

This guy's Spidey Senses must have been tingling - because before I could even finish my sentence on the radio -

What happened to Ready...Set...Go???

This guy jumps up and before I even know I'm in a race - he's fucking gone.

Really, we're gonna run today? Well shit.

Well now Usain fuckin' Bolt is waaay out in front of me because he's a cheating bastard and didn't yell "Go!" or fire a starter pistol - nothing. I blast out the back door after him and yell "Runner!" to my partner to let him know I'm in a foot chase (I guess *technically* "we're" in a foot chase - technically. My partner isn't a speedy fella.)

There's a Glitch In the Matrix

Usain runs along the back of this apartment building and hangs a left around the side. I round the corner after him, doing my thing: "Police! Stop. Police, don't run." But he didn't stop. (Can you believe that shit? Rude.)

Usain and I hang another left, and run along the front of the building. Usain hangs another left, I hang another left, my partner bringing up the rear hangs another left.
We all hang another left, and we're now running around the back of the building... again. We're back where we started. Usain starts tossing things out of his pockets as he's running - periodically looking over his shoulder to see if I'm gaining on him (I am.)

Around the corner we go (again), and I begin to hear a Horse Race Caller in my head. "And here they come into turn 2, Usain's got the lead by four lengths but Rawesome's coming up the inside hard - Officer Caboose is bringing up the rear and fading fast, tear up your tickets folks, he's dead money. Usain's around turns three and four looking strong, Rawesome's holding his own, Officer Caboose looks like he's carrying a piano. Here they come into the back stretch (again)."

Usain runs round the back of the building again, and the Horse Track call fades out, and "Yakety Sax" fades in. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5sQL7q_IOI)

"This is fucking ridiculous" I'm thinking to myself, "He doesn't have a plan, and we look like we don't have a goddamn clue."
Oh Jesus; we just became "The Quick and the Dumb."

Officer Caboose gets hip to Usain's plan (what is the plan again?) and cuts through the building to head him off at the front. But Usain must be some sort of super hero, because his spidey senses tell him something's amiss, and rather than continue this Moronic Mary-Go-Round from Hell, he changes course and cuts between two different apartment buildings.

Usain hangs another left and heads into the woods.
A jungle adventure - fantastic...

Slowed down by the underbrush and limbs standing relentlessly in his way - I rapidly gain on Usain until I can touch him, I tackle him at about the same time he trips. This results in less of a bad-ass "End Of Watch"-esque tackle, and more of a Scooby Doo Style Cluster-Fuck-Pile.

Usain struggles and briefly tries to fight, but as Officer Caboose catches up to the all Man Meat Mountain that we've formed, Usain reocognizes the futility of Plan B,and skips to Plan Q: Quit.

We quickly and efficiently put Usain into cuffs and walk him out of the woods and back to the porch where this whole futile footchase started. Why? Because it's the start/finish line - duh, and we started a race - bygod we're gonna finish it. (Plus it was the closest thing to sit him down on so we could rest.)

Dags? Oh DOOOOGS! Yeah - I like Dogs.

My partner and I call for a K9 to do an article search. This guy had been shucking shit out of his pockets faster than a Weight Watchers support group at a weigh in after an Ice Cream bender. So we brought in one of our K9s to follow the path of the foot chase to make sure we didn't miss anything he had ditched.

It wasn't hard to follow the trail, it was a veritable road of crap he'd pitched out. Every twenty or thirty yards, another thing:

$1 bill. Rolling Papers. $5 bill. Page ripped from a porn mag. $1 bill. Empty plastic baggie. More porn. Wadded up tissue. Hair pick. More porn. $1 bill.

The dog hit on a small baggie of marijuana at the final resting place of our man-pile. Usain must've tossed it as he was falling and I hadn't see him do it.

Once we'd collected Usain's Lost Luggage, we brought it back to him.
"I found your stuff" I said as I showed it to him.
"That's not mine." he said
"Hey man, listen - the dog followed your trail right to where we landed when I caught you - and that's where the weed was. I'm pretty sure it's yours." I told him.
"No I mean THAT!" he emphasized by nodding slightly toward the pages of ripped out porn. "That isn't mine." he stated again, not looking at either Officer Caboose or myself.

I took a closer look at the pages we'd collected. "BIG FAT and BLACK" was printed across the bottom (or something like that).

You like a Rubenesque?

Page after page of chunky black ladies, spreading and showing for all they were worth.

"It's not mine!" he exclaimed again. "The weed is mine. But that shit ain't mine."
"You know the weed is illegal, but having fatty porn isn't; right?" My partner asked. "I don't care, it's not mine." Usain said again.

Apparently he was so embarrassed about being into the larger ladies that he was ready to cop to the not-legal weed, but wanted nothing to do with the totally legal wank material.

Usain got booked and fingerprinted. The whole thing was really pretty stupid. If he'd stayed put, my partner and I would have probably just lectured him a bit for the weed; a standard "Keep that shit inside where no one can see it, and it's not our problem" kind of speech, had him dump out his little baggie and send him on his way.

But NOOOOOO, Johnny Motherfucking Track Star had to be an ass about it and make us run a surprise 400m dash. So he got to go to jail for his trouble. Something positive did come out of the whole thing though. About a week later, I got a call from a neighboring agency's detective. When Usain had been fingerprinted by us, his prints had matched some unknown prints from a few unsolved burglaries and home invasions that had been happening around the area over the last several months.

And to think - if he hadn't had those heavy ladies in his pockets weighing him down - he might've gotten away with the whole damn thing.

Swag

That's it for this episode. Hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm having a lot of fun writing these.
As always if you've got questions you'd like an honest answer to - let me know. I'll do my best to give you a straight answer.

Be good ya'll.

Table of Contents, Past Adventures:
Accidental Assault by Sex Toy http://imgur.com/gallery/fV4D0
Highway Divider of Love http://imgur.com/gallery/k2ZWJ
Departing Party Hat http://imgur.com/gallery/lMjIP
Larry Snickets and a Series of Retarded Events http://imgur.com/gallery/a8SJZ
Mary Poppins' Magical Purse http://imgur.com/gallery/h4BLz
Alcohol Fueled Anarchy http://imgur.com/gallery/Qk5rD
Rainbows, Unicorn Piss and Fairy Tales
http://imgur.com/gallery/M6KdQ
That Is Not My Fetish: http://imgur.com/gallery/f0irf
Karma: Revenge From Afur http://imgur.com/gallery/tBDLJ

AMA part 1: http://imgur.com/gallery/IcQ83
AMA part 2: http://imgur.com/gallery/wMZa9
AMA part 3: http://imgur.com/gallery/V8DEi