It was a dark and stormy night...no shit, it really was.  I wasn't just 
borrowing from Snoopy there.  The weatherman had predicted a freaking 
blizzard, but what we got instead was that bone-chilling cold cold cold 
rain.  Most cops find ways to avoid work on nights like that, but I didn't 
spend $200 on a gortex jacket for nothing, doggonit!  They issued me a 
leather jacket, which is sweet, but not too good when it's wet.  It is much 
warmer on below zero nights, though.


So, I was TRYING to find bad guys, drunks, crackheads, tweakers, hookers, or 
whatever flavor of ne'erdowell I could muster up.  Unfortunately for me, 
ne'erdowells aren't out doing wrong on nights like that.  I couldn't come up 
with anything, and I was trying hard.


Jolly ho!  Another officer and I got dispatched to assist our city's 
paramedic service who were fighting with a mental patient in the back of the 
meatwagon -- finally, I got to drive like the ace!


Lights and sirens a' blarin', we jetted across town over wet roads, busting 
red lights (SOOOO carefully), and having a grand ol' time.


It finally dawned on me that I was no longer a rookie (haven't been for some 
time now, but this was my comeuppance).  I realized that I was driving code 
3 (lights and sirens) going about 100 miles per hour in less-than-stellar 
weather conditions, and I was sipping from a piping hot cup of coffee while 
taking the car sideways through turns.


What fun!  Can you believe they pay me for that???  If they only knew how 
fun it was, they'd cut my pay.


Anyway, we got there and Space Case quieted down.  I didn't even get to do 
any whuppin'.  She has been tased before, and it's mere presence turns her 
into a passive schoolchild, not the knife-wielding psychopath she normally 
is.  Well, that and I had the little red dot pointed at her chest :)


So, that was a let down.  I bragged a little about driving like that and not 
spilling a drop of coffee.  Then I got back in the cruiser and found all the 
spilled coffee.  Shit.


I have this tool called a cheat sheet.  It's a little spiral bound 
dealy-bobber that makes it easy to look up criminal and traffic statutes for 
tickets and reports...without having to read all about them in the statute 
book.  It's great for those frequent occasions when you know what charge 
you're hammering someone with, and don't need to read the statute, you just 
want to know what the number is.


Anyway, let's just say my cheat sheet would taste good with creamer about 
now.  Sugar if you prefer, but I'm a froo-froo creamer man.


So, I drove back to the substation to clean up the coffee spill, and the 
other cop -- who had also spilled his, followed.  Just as I was finishing 
up, the same guy and I (each in our own cruisers) got dispatched to find a 
crazy guy "running in and out of traffic, laying in the middle of the road."


Sweet.  No lights and sirens this time, but we drove too fast, anyway.  So, 
as we're pulling into the area where Crazy Dude was supposed to be, I could 
see the paramedics' red and blue lights.  They almost always arrive before 
we do.  They had parked the ambulance across all the southbound lanes of 
traffic, effectively shutting down the road.  As we continued to approach, I 
saw some people standing on the median looking at something.  I looked where 
they were looking, and saw a pile of people in the middle of the road.  Arms 
and legs were flailing everywhere, and somehow I managed to see the distinct 
white shirt our paramedics wear on at least two people.


Both of us stopped in the middle of the road and jumped on the pig pile 
(that's why they call it a pig pile).   We got him restrained and strapped 
down to the gurney without having to do any serious whuppin'.  When it's 
four against one (two cops, two paras), it makes it much easier to restrain 
versus whup.


It turns out he had OD'd on crack...well, he OD'd on something, but I found 
a crack pipe in his pocket....so, yeah, it was crack.  One of the witnesses 
said Crazy Dude had ran full speed into a brick building before the paras 
got there.


At the ER, the fight was on again.  I think there were three security 
guards, two cops, and two paramedics all fighting him in the hospital.  In 
the ER, his neighbor was an elderly man, whom I think had just suffered from 
a heart attack.  The elderly gentleman's family was all there -- "regular" 
middle class folks who had never seen anything like a crackhead OD'ing and 
fighting with the people who wanted to help him.  They were all staring with 
that astonished -- no, SHOCKED -- look on their faces.


I looked over at them and said, "Say no to drugs," as I smiled and pulled 
out my taser :)




JOHN P. McFARLAND
NRA Life Member
NRA Certified Instructor (Pistol, Rifle, Reloading)
NRA Range Safety Officer
Pike's Peak Firearms Coalition PAC Steering Committee Member
Republican House District 17D Division Leader


"The Constitution shall never be construed...to prevent the people of the 
United States who are peaceable citizens from keeping their own arms."
                         -Samuel Adams, 1786


"LOCH SLOY!!!"  -MacFarlane clan battle cry