POLICE MAN: EPISODE "TRASH TALK"

"Police Man" is a collection of events about a cop who's been a cop for a long time...

“1 Charlie 37, CP called from 937 Gaviota #4, regarding a dispute with her neighbor.”

Chuck had been to this complex before.  Wouldn’t be the last either.  He was working alone that night.

“CP stated that the neighbor put the trash can in front of her window, and it smelled bad.”

Every call matters.  Every citizen matters.  The Miranda Act matters.  That’s what he kept telling himself.

The apartment complex at 937 Gaviota was like recreational center.  In a prison.  Chuck pulled black and white askew.  Stepped out.

Kids in the streets leered at him.  Even though it was dark, they were still playing.  He smiled back.  Even if the kids looked scared.  Kids were always scared of him.  Except, there was usually one smart ass kid that wasn’t scared.  He was usually fat.  And asked stupid questions.  Like:

“Hey, Mr.Cop, how many bullets does your gun hold?”

Chuck stopped answering these irrelevant questions 17 years ago… when he was rookie.

“Get back.  Police business,” he commanded the child, shutting him up.  Being a cop meant knowing how to shut people up.  Children were people too.

The courtyard was a shithole.  Black single women who had babies at 17.  Can’t even afford to eat McDonald’s 99 cents menu.  What were they thinking when they got knocked up?  A great wall of baby strollers and mothers playing “Angry Birds” on the iPhone they bought with food stamps.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Chuck hammered Door #4.  Took a couple minutes before it opened. Chuck heard the voice before the saw the person. 

“Finally!”

The “F” bomb was about the last word a cop wanted to hear.  Yea, cops should drop whatever they’re doing to take care your emergency situation. 

“I called because my next door neighbor put the trash can in front of my window. Smell horrible.  If you don't believe me, go and check it. It's still there.”

Female White… 5”3… 170… Fifties.  Brown night gown.  White trash.

“Why am I here?” asked Chuck.

“He should not put the trash can in front of my window!”

 “You did not answer my question. WHY AM I HERE?”

 “Well, you're the police .  Do something about it.”

“Do I look like a trash collector to you?  Stop calling the police about nonsense stuff. Talk to your manager or owner.  It's not a police matter.”

Chuck walked away shook his head and walked away.   This time, he didn’t smile at the kids.  It was too dark anyway. 

Their body language gave him the impression he was a criminal, like he did something wrong.  Let’s see what these kids would do with no cops on the streets.  They’d be at the mercy of the evil.  Kids did not truly know what evil was.  Even adults didn’t know.  Only cops knew.  Chuck had seen things normal person would never see.  They would go through their entire lives without understanding pure evil.  Civilization, in a nutshell.

“1 Charlie 37, CP called from #3, regarding your last call. He wants contact about the neighbor dispute!”

Chuck being the nearest cop had to answer the call…

… and return to 937 Gaviota Door #3…

Kids were still on the streets.  Mothers still in the courtyard.  Strollers.  Talking on their iPhones.  Playing Angry Birds.  Chuck considered himself pretty adept at Angry Birds.  He’d kick these women’s asses in Angry Birds.

“Bang!  Bang!  Bang!” His fist pounded the door.

 “POLICE.  Open the door!” Chuck felt like a disrespected pizza man.  They call emergency and take forever to open the door.

What was behind Door #3?  Black Male.  Seventies.  5’7.  150 lbs.  Blue tee-shirt.   Black jeans.  Sandals.  The old man actually gets out of his apartment.  Confronts Chuck. 

“I called you because this girl is prejudice. She hates black people.

She kept pulling the trash can, and putting it in my front door. And it's not the first time.”

“I just spoke to her. Call your manager or owner to take care of your problem.  It's not my problem.”

“I took a video camera when she did it. I have proof.  I have hard evidence.”

This old man watches too much TV.  Hard evidence my ass.

“Why am I here?  What's wrong with you people?”

“What's wrong with my people? Now you called me A NIGGER?  There's nothing wrong with my people.  SHE'S FUCKING PREJUDICE!”

“I didn't call you anything.  You both are as old as grandparents, but behave like two little kids.  This is not a police problem.  STOP CALLING THE POLICE.”

Chuck returned to the black and white.  Every call matters.  Every citizen matters.  The radio crackled for the next one…