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Tag Archives: intimidated by police

Things That Go Boom in the Night

Last night…

My son and I were in our usual positions, seated at the dining room table before two identical laptop computers typing away, he, on some strategy battle game and me on an unfinished essay, when I heard the boom.

For a second, I wondered if someone had been shot, but I was in the middle of constructing a really clever sentence and didn’t want to break my train of thought. When I finished, I looked over at my son, “Hey, did you hear that?” He was obviously creating an extremely clever plot to overthrow the world because he didn’t even answer.

I gave it another moment’s thought. What could that have been? Thunder? A garage door banging down? I had no idea, but easily dismissed it and went back to my essay.

It was about 15 minutes later that I heard a rap at the door. I was in the process of corralling the boys up to their bed, about a half an hour later than I should have. With much hesitation, I slowly descended the stairs. No one knocks on my door at night, except occasionally a neighbor to tell me I left the lights on in my car, or my sliding car door open, or my keys hanging in the door. But every time, it unnerves me, especially without my husband home, at his third baseball meeting of the week. But that’s not important.

I looked through the window. It was a police officer.


Now it’s never good to see the police standing at your door at 9pm at night, but I have to say my first thought was not fear that something terrible had happened, it was paranoia. Was this really the police? Was I going to open the door for a robber or worse, a killer?? My husband and I had been watching The Following on television, I no longer trusted anyone.

Unsure if I should,yet unable to stop myself, I slowly opened the door, wishing I had a bat nearby.

“Yes?” I asked, intimidated by the uniform and the situation.

“Someone hit your car.”  He alerted me in a very police like fashion. “You have a registration and insurance card?”

I peeked out my door and saw a police car and another vehicle a few feet behind mine in the street. Felt legitimate. “Sure,” I responded. “It’s in the car. Let me get my keys.”

I made sure boys were in their beds, actually, they decided to huddle in one bed. The policeman at the door had turned them simultaneously nervous and giddy. I grabbed my keys and walked out in the dark and cold. There was plastic and pieces of car everywhere. A man approached me and said, “I didn’t even see it. I really wasn’t going very fast.”

Hmm. The car might disagree.

“Are you okay?” I asked and he nodded. He seemed okay, but his Ford Explorer certainly wasn’t. The whole passenger side looked eaten away. This car had nothing in it behind its exterior shell. The corner was totaled. It was made of nothing. On the other hand, my car fared substantially better. I mean, it wasn’t great, but all cheer the Odyssey. This was no mini-van. It was a mini-tank.

After finding the necessary paperwork, a small miracle in itself, there wasn’t much to do. I stared at his car. I stared at mine. I made light small talk with the man who I learned only lived a block away, and I was told to pick up the police report the next day.

I was surprised how mild my reaction was to the whole incident, but of course, it’s just a car. No one was hurt. I guess when the police turn up at your door at night, someone hitting your parked car is a big relief. Because in this crazy life, in this crazy world, sometimes real shit happens. Boom. It could have been a lot worse. There was no need to fall apart, just because my car did.

Although this does change my plans for the day.


My car…

His car

His car. Boom.

Intimidated by the police? Guilty.

Recently, we were the subjects of bank fraud. After wasting time on the phone with the bank, and then even more time at the bank, generating basically no information, our next step was to file a police report. Time to head… ‘Downtown’. Da Da Dummmm! 

It’s intimidating just pulling into a police station. The police cars in the lot. The institutional brick building. The big sign that screams Police. I walked through the heavy double doors and up to the bullet proof window like I was being called to the teacher’s desks after passing notes. There were two officers sitting there, who didn’t even look up. That is, until I accidentally banged my head on the glass. Turns out, there was no window, just a glass wall.


I looked around and noticed the men looking at me.

“Can I help you?” one asked.

“Uh, uh…” I stammered. Oh my God! I was in the principal’s office. I didn’t do it!! “I, uh, need to file a police report.”

I watched a tall man in uniform stand up and then disappear. Where’d he go?

Suddenly, a door to the side of me opened, and an unsmiling face ordered, “Come with me.”

OMG I didn’t do it!!! 

I could only nod and obey.

The officer led me to a room, where he told me to sit and wait. Alone, I looked around. There were trophies on shelves, a flag, some commemoration plaques. In the corner, cardboard boxes were stacked in a disorderly fashion. I started tapping my fingers on the long wood table.

What was taking so long? I checked my phone. I tapped. I checked. I tapped. I checked.

I had a thought and my neck snapped around. Were there cameras? Were they…. watching me??

Just then, another officer walked in. He was younger and shorter, but with the same serious expression. Apparently, there was no smiling in law enforcement. That was probably the first thing you learn at the academy.

He sat down, pulled out a pen and paper, and got to business. “So tell me what happened.”

“Well, there were at least four accounts opened fraudulently where they transferred money out from our accounts..”

“How much money was stolen?”

“Well none technically be…”

“Wait, wait. Hold up.” He interrupted and sat back in his chair, assessing me cooly. “You said they transferred  monies.”

Uh, easy Blue. Did he think I was playing him? Was I about to take the rap?? OMG! I was going DOWN!

I collected myself and explained, slowly. “They transferred the money out of the accounts, but they were still pending when my husband alerted the bank, so I don’t believe any money was actually stolen.”

He nodded and went back to writing. Whew. He didn’t crack me, but from then on, I carefully stuck to the script, revealing only pertinent (that’s police for important) information.

He finished up the report and pushed it my way for approval. I scanned his words. “It’s good.” I said. It was over, but unfortunately my relief translated into small talk when I noticed his sign off, PO Newman.

“Po?” I asked innocently. “Is that your name?”

He came one breath short of snorting with derision. “Police officer.” He said, the idiot remained unspoken, but it was as loud as a bull horn.

I walked out and got into my car totally annoyed. Take yourself a little seriously officer? Sheesh. I was feeling rebellious when I decided to leave the parking lot without wearing my seat belt. Oh yeah, I would. You don’t intimidate me PO!

I pulled out of my spot, feeling wild and free. I put the car into drive and was heading off into the sunset, when I heard him yelling. “Hey!”


I looked back and there he was, standing on the steps motioning to me. Oh my GOD! He knows!! I’m so busted!!  I’m ready to come out with my hands up!  I opened the door and tentatively stuck my head out. “Uh. Yeah?”

He walked over to the car and handed me a copy of the report. “You forgot this.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

No return smile.

I immediately strapped myself and in and pulled away. Whew. I made out. A weight lifted as I drove down toward home, but for some reason, I kept looking in my rear view mirror for those spinning lights.


Anyone got a nail file?

Anyone got a nail file? (That’s icescreammama for I need a manicure.)