Jabba The Detective

Detective Hartman (left) talking to a complainant.

Move over, Teddy Roosevelt. Philadelphia Police Detective Tim Hartman is the greatest hero in American history. Perhaps an explanation is in order.

Once every two weeks, the Philadelphia Police Department's "Power Day" rolls around. It is the one day that every police officer is scheduled to work. In my detective division, a nighttime Power Day means the squad will be getting take-out from Jovan's Place - a small restaurant in East Division that has food to die for. Everything is homemade, and the portions are more than mortal man can finish.

It appears that Tim Hartman is not a mortal man.

In a decision declared asinine by most of our squad, Tim wagered that he could eat an entire Jovan's platter - an accomplishment witnessed only once - with a loaf of their homemade bread in an hour. Without seeing the actual platters, you cannot fathom the lunacy of such a bet. Tim is not a big, fat guy, so where was he gonna put it? Tim's choice was the chicken pasta platter, which consists of about a pound of pasta and a pound of chicken . . . not to mention the bread. Naturally, a few detectives jumped on this bet, since it was a "gimme." The contest was set for Thursday, July 13th (last night).

My squad is possibly the best squad in the division, if not the city. Everyone helps each other, and we all get along, but when someone does something stupid - which I do on a daily basis - we are merciless to each other. We proudly boast that we break more balls before 9am than most divisions do all day. Thus, for the week prior, Tim took a beating.

Last night, we ordered the food early, so Tim could eat in front of the maximum number of people. The food arrived at approximately 6:45pm, and the ground rules were reiterated:

Every morsel of the platter and bread must be eaten.

Tim cannot go to the bathroom during the hour.

If Tim vomits, he forfeits.

If Tim finishes early, he must "keep it down" until the hour is up.

In a move which can only be described as brilliant, we took the meal and weighed it on our narcotics scale. Total weight: 3.65 pounds! At about 6:58pm, the bell rung, and Tim was off. First, he targeted the chicken. Since Tim eats like a prisoner, he encircled the platter and ate rather quickly. In minutes, the chicken was gone. While most of us were laughing (at him, not with him) he kept his poise, and continued to eat. We sat amazed as he blazed through the pasta like Rosie O'Donnell on a Twinkie.

Thirty minutes in, he was finished with the platter. Only the bread remained. Stunned silence filled the room as the bettors were reaching into their wallets. Smiling, Tim attacked the bread. Admittedly it was "dry," but he plowed through, finishing the entire meal in forty minutes.

3.65 pounds of chicken, pasta, and bread in forty minutes.

As if sensing our disappointment - and grudging respect - Tim asked the sergeant for a Tastykake Chocolate Junior from the snack machine. He got it.

Tim Hartman: A True American Hero.