Wagon Night: A Tale In Two Parts

I don't know what kind of glitch occurred in my sergeant's puny little brain, but last night was the first time I had the wagon in almost two weeks. As such, this post will be written in two parts, since one post about last evening's comedy, stress and b.s. would be so long that everyone would lose interest. (See what I mean? You're already logging off.)

Part One: A Tale Of Two Idiots

Our first assignment out of the gate is for a theft in progress in "N" sector. My partner and I are close by, so we ride in on the job and see what's what. Dispatch tells us that we're looking for two males, both wearing dark hooded jackets (or "hoodies" as the criminals say), attempting to steal a vehicle in front of the location. We were the first officers on the scene, and the witness states that the males tried to steal an ATV from the back of his pickup truck. The description is the same that was given over radio, and the witness said that the males fled in a light colored Cadillac with a Pennsylvania tag, FVR-****. (The tag was changed to protect the moronic.)

We take the report and give the tag info over the air - just in case another officer sees the vehicle - then check the area for the almost-thieves. Not five minutes later, my partner sees a Caddy fitting the description. As we get behind it, we see that the tag is the same car from the theft. We stop the vehicle.

We approach the car with our pistols drawn - if for no other reason that it "looks cool" - and tell the males to put their hands on the dashboard. Both men look about 18 years old. My partner asks the driver for ID, and he says that he has a license, but, "I don't have it on me." Right. The driver gives us his info and we run him through the computer. BMV comes back with his license info - strangely enough, he has a valid license - and we discover that the moron lives around the block from the ATV he was trying to swipe! Now that's a good neighbor.

When we return to the males, my partner asks him what he was doing on the street with the ATV. He (of course) denied ever being there. Being a wiseass, I tell him that he must have gone to public school, because we have witnesses that saw them both, gave us a dead-on clothing description, and the tag number of the car he was driving. The two males still denied it. Okay, fine. Thankfully, the good folks at the PA Motor Vehicles Code have a remedy for just such obstinance: moving violations. See, little Johnny was driving without his license in his possession, and made a turn without signaling, and driving a vehicle with illegal window tint, and without wearing his seat belt. Johnny better ask for a raise on his allowance this morning; otherwise, he's gonna have to work an extra shift or three at Burger World.

As we are writing Johnny the tickets (and working on our hand cramps), Johnny's mommy walks over to the car - we stopped him right by his home - and begins a conversation with him in the middle of our car stop. Faux pas! My partner politely asked her to step away from the car - I think he said something like, "YO!" - and she walks towards the wagon. When asked what her darling little cherub did to deserve this "harassment," we told her that her son was a thief . . . and not a very good one at that. Like any good mother, she shrugged her shoulders at the news, and walked home. Nice.

Intermission. (I told you this would be a long one. Is anyone still out there?)

We give Johnny his brutal fines and send him on his way. Now we're left with little Billy, who owns the car. Billy is just as ignorant as Johnny, and twice as stupid. He politely gives us his license - which is suspended - and we verify his info. We return his license to him, and tell him to be on his way.

Sidebar - In Philadelphia, if you are caught driving a vehicle with a suspended license, it is "Live Stopped," which means that the police can impound your car. Everyone knows the policy, since it has been in effect for a few years, and there are always news stories about the program.

Little Billy obviously didn't get the memo. Instead of locking his car and walking home the half-block, he decides to test our IQ and drives away. (At this point, I know my partner is licking his chops, and I can't stop laughing - which is killing my already bruised ribs.) My partner has a look on his face like, "It can't be this easy," and we stop the car for the second time in a row! Billy looks at us as if we had five heads and asks what's the problem. I am so far behind the car now, because I can't stop laughing, and laughing at this nitwit would be unprofessional.

My partner politely tells him that we are now going to impound his car. (I am now gasping for air, since I am laughing so hard.) He is about to tell radio that we have another car stop in the same area with the same tag as the previous vehicle. Here's the exchange:

My partner - "Are you gonna stop laughing so I can go over the air?"

Me - (Laughing) "Yeah."

My partner - (Clicks radio.)

Me - (Laughing hysterically.)

My partner - "Get out of the wagon until I can tell radio what we have!"

I get out (still laughing) and go to the back of the wagon to try and compose myself. It didn't work.

(For the record, I cannot adequately describe how funny it is that we stopped the same car twice in a row after these morons lied to us. Trust me, though, it was hilarious.)

The tow squad arrives a short time later, and Billy walks home in disgust. Maybe next time he'll stay in school. Idiot.

Editor's note: I'll post Part Two a little later so as not to overwhelm everyone.