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As told by: B Bod

I worked in a historic neighborhood in the city and one of the problems I dealt with was gang members and the crime that came with them dealing crack. One of the Blood gang members I dealt with went by the moniker, B Bod and was the biggest crack dealers in the city. The officers working that part of the city knew this and worked hard to catch him. He was connected to shootings and murders. I had made him a mission and whenever I had a chance played a psychological game with him and he hated me for it. One day I was working and stopped at a neighborhood corner store to buy something to drink and B Bod had parked in the lot and was walking ahead of me, I had no plans to mess with him that day and wasn’t going to talk to him. He turned around and saw me and started yelling towards his car, “Mama, Mama, (fictitious officer name) is messin’ with me. I looked at him and said, Man, I haven’t done anything to you, get whatever you’re going to get, I’m not going to mess with you. He kept on yelling to his mom that was messin’ with him as we went in the store. I to,shim to stop crying f or his mom and get whatever he was getting. He kept crying to his mom and i finally got tired of his nonsense and told him if he cried for his mom one more time, I was going to pay attention to him. He took the hint, bought some juice and left still watching to see if I was going to do something to him.  

As told by: Carl

I work in a city that is too big to be small too small to be big, and for that reason, we always have one or two officers that suck balls. I was part of a specialized unit, dealing with neighborhood issues, and we had one of these officers assigned to our unit; for this story, we will call his Stuart.

In this unit, we were fortunate enough to generate our own work, as well as help out with any radio calls that were dispatched, which we make sure to do, especially if it had anything to do with our area.

But, we also make sure that we had fun.  In this example, we had talked with the local business owner, and he allowed us to use vacant business as a hidden office. If things were not busy, this is where we would hang out. If we needed to have a private phone call, this is where we would hang out.  When the weather sucked, this is where we would hang out.  And, it was also where we maintained a long running monopoly game.

On one day, we all have nothing going on so, we agreed to meet to play Monopoly, including Stuart.

As we were all traveling to our off-site office, we heard dispatch send out a call for a civil standby. If you don’t know, a civil standby usually involves two people that are ending a relationship, and someone has requested that officers show up so that they can safely take their items out of the house, or apartment. It’s usually a pretty easy call, as long as you quickly explain to the people that you were not taking sides, and everyone can only take items that they both agree on, and anything else will have to be settled In court.

Well, since the civil standby was in Stuart’s area he took the call. The rest of us, knowing that he most likely would not need assistance, continued to our off-site office.

To our surprise, Stewart arrived only a few minutes after everyone else, which is unusual, because with a civil standby, unless they are picking up a single item, it should take a little while.  But, there he was.

Since NONE OF US liked, Stuart, no one inquired.  We simply took it as it was, and sat down to play Monopoly.

After a few minutes, dispatch called Stewart and asked if he was still present at the address.

Stewart immediately lied, said he had just left the address, and had driven around the corner.

Dispatch asked him if he could return, because the female party of the civil standby had just called 911 to report that she had been stabbed.

If you can imagine five officers simultaneously, slowly taking a sip of tea, and looking at Stuart with a side eye, you can pretty much imagine the scene as he jumped up and ran out the door.

Since that episode Stuart went on to, write an illegal search warrant that resulted in someone death, was fired from the department for theft, and is now a registered sex offender.

You know I’ve never met one a good officer, who was surprised that a bad officer did something stupid.

As told by: Michael

I was working a solo car in the neighborhood and stopped at a 7-Eleven to get something, I saw a guy contacting people as they walked in. I had arrested the guy the previous week on a warrant. I walked past him and bought some gum. I asked the clerk what was going on with the guy hanging by the door and the clerk told me that he had asked the guy several times to leave but the guy hadn’t. I asked the clerk if he wanted me to talk to him and he said yes. I went out and contacted the guy, I knew his name was Eric Robinson but didn’t remember his DOB. I told Eric, the clerk said he told you to leave a couple of times and you haven’t. Eric said, ok officer I’m leaving, I told him, hold up don’t leave yet. I asked if he had ID that I could look at, he tells me that he lost it. I tell him to keep his hands where I can see them and ask him what his name and DOB are. Eric tells me, Michael Jones, I know I can now charge him false information but to solidify that he is not telling me the truth, I ask him to spell Michael. Eric looks at me and goes, MIKE, I freeze and think, wait a sec that’s not right. I ask him again, what is your name? He again states, “Michael Jones” i again ask him, spell Michael. He looks at me and goes, MIKE, I’m now trying to keep from laughing. I tell him to turn around and put his hands behind his back and I cuff him. He looks at me and asks why are you arresting me? I turn him around and tell him, Eric, I arrested you last week, if you’re going to lie about your name, pick one that you know how to spell.
 

As told by: Eric

As you’re reading this I have to say that I don’t know what Era of policing you are familiar with.

I come from a time of hazing, pranks, mischief and fun. Even though much of what we did would be totally unacceptable today.

When you asked me for a story, there is one instance that immediately came to mind.

On my department we had this guy; we will call him Jamison.  Jamison was a hard worker and all of that, but he love to be in the middle of everything.  He talked shit.  He played pranks.  He stirred the pot.  He was in the middle of everything.  And for that reason, he sometimes would be the target of a prank.

Where I worked we had all four seasons, and sometimes it would get notoriously cold, so everyone had all-weather gear. This included both a heavy winter coat, and a light-weight jacket.  The lightweight coat was really nice, and a lot of guys would wear it almost year-round.

Well one day, Jamison comes into the roll call room where everyone is seated, getting ready.  He immediately stands near the front of the room and confronts everyone, asking “Where is my coat?”

Of course everyone looks at him like he’s crazy because we all have our own jackets, and no one would want his.  Don’t get me wrong, things have a way of disappearing, but for the most part, on purpose, no one would take your coat.  And, even if they did, most of us had our names written in our coats.

Because he is who he is, no one misses a beat … “Did you look for it?” “Have you asked your girlfriend where it is?” “Man up, it’s not that cold!”  He takes shot after shot.

Undeterred, he solidly claims “One of you has my coat, and I’m gonna find it!”

The next day, Jamison has still not found his jacket, and because cops are bastards, everyone shows up to Roll Call in their coats. This just fuels his fire.  “One of you mother fuckers has my coat, and I’m gonna find out who!”

This goes on and on for a week, until everyone has their assigned days off.

When everyone returned to work after their days off, low and behold, Jamison walks into the roll call room proudly wearing his coat.

In the midst of murmurs such as “I guess you found your coat” and “Told you we didn’t have it,” someone asks “Where did you find it?”  

Jamison explained that he found the jacket in the locker room, in a corner by the showers, under a bench.

For the next week, Jamison showed up to roll call, proudly flaunting his coat, brushing off his shoulders, and popping his collar, exclaiming things such as “You guys thought that you were going to get me.”

When we all returned from our next set of days off, Jamison came into the roll call room once again wearing his coat.  And on this day, sitting on the table directly in front of his seat was a black, three-ring binder.  The binder was filled with laminated pages and a had a printed-out \ cover which simply stated in big letters, “The Journey of The Coat.”
Jamison sat down and looked around the room, as everyone looked at him.

As he opened the book, he was met with a full-page photo of an homeless man wearing a lightweight winter jacket.

Page two … a picture of a homeless man, wearing a lightweight winter jacket.  Page 3 …. and so forth.  Pages and pages of homeless men wearing his jacket … the same jacket that he currently had on.

Absolutely devious.

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