Was watching a quick plea this morning by a prostitute/meth head and my mind drifted back 20 years. These meth heads are really inter-changeable….the years pass but they are technically the same person. The lady with the bad teeth this morning was a carbon copy of a woman that latched onto my right forearm like a snapping turtle back in 1989.
It was the holiday season and I was working patrol on the midnight shift. The hour was about 2am, that golden hour when the only people driving about are cops and crooks. I pulled the car over for several violations and met the 1989 version with her “date” for the hour.
One thing led to another and she got popped for DWI and I transported her to the city jail. As I was reading her the Miranda and DWI Statutory warning, on videotape, she Karate chop kicked the metal clip-board out of my hand and right at my forehead. Needless to say her forehead bounced off the jail floor next and the fight was on.
My buddy Dave was my back-up that night and it took two of us to sit on this 5’2″ “lady” to try and secure her. But not before she bit Dave, then latched onto the fleshy underpart of my right forearm. She just would not let go! On the videotape I can be seen swinging her head back and forth in an effort to gain freedom. Finally, a correctly placed punch let me pull away from this cranked up skank. I was surprised to not find some of her rotted teeth still impaled in my arm.
Months later the jury convicted her of aggravated assault on a police officer and gave her a nice stay in TDC, after they literally heard her teeth clamp shut, on the audio of the tape as my arm was ripped from her grasp. Ahh, the good old days. The days when men or women could sport a mullet and it didn’t necessarily mean you were white trash or that you followed Nascar.
Police work is truly a young person’s sport. Rolling around the side of the highway, fighting in a bar, or wrestling a masticating whore is truly for people in their 20-30s. I am glad I got out when I did.
But this morning when I saw the plea deal and this memory came flooding back…it actually made me nostalgic. Nowadays that skank is my client and most of the time we don’t engage in hand to hand combat…..but I still think working one 8 hour shift would be satisfying.
But who am I kidding?? As I rose from the jury box, which had been my observation perch, I felt the pain of my sciatica, and that nagging pain in my right knee that flares up on cold days. Oh good gawd, that one 8 hour shift would kill me.
Teeth prints on the forearm and a knot the size of a golf ball….I will leave that fun for the youngsters, they can make their own holiday memories.