As an outsider my perspective is limited, but in a lot of ways I think being a police officer must be like going to see your favorite actor/actress in a crappy movie full of clichéd situations, bad dialogue, improbable situations, and ridiculous plot twists, and still being willing to check out their next offering...every day or night. Your favorite thespian, in this case is the public at large; those who you have sworn to protect and serve. Sometimes they play the "good guy", sometimes the "not so good guy", and sometimes the "creepy, scare the bejeesus out of ya guy". The crappy movie is the veritable grab bag that you get every day on the job consisting of a sampling of felonies, misdemeanors, hard luck cases, and moments that leave you scratching your head and asking...did that really just happen?
The first call of the night involved a suspected breaking and entering, a wrong address, and the biggest cop, no biggest person, I have ever seen in my life. This guy was Goliath big and I cannot imagine anyone wanting to mess with him. Maybe it was the fact that I was stuck in the car imagining what was going on (whatever happened to my imagination), but I couldn't get over how ridiculous everyone else looked standing next to him. All I know is that there were a lot of people looking out for this neighbor so I am glad to see that community lives on somewhere, even if not in my neighborhood.
The night's second encounter was a gentleman talking on his cell phone while driving. Even for something this simple, there is an amazing level of complexity involved. For example, this individual had clearly never heard anything about "traffic stop etiquette". While my criminal record, or lack thereof, would attest to the fact that I don't get much practice, on the rare occasion where I find myself pulled over, I turn the car off, keep my hands high on the wheel, and do not do anything I am not told to do. In this case, there were reaches for the glove-box, bending down to fiddle with the seat, and a lot of other body-language that felt amazingly suspicious and potentially threatening from the vantage point of the cruiser passenger seat. I mused on the release form I had signed and perhaps it was my inner coward, but I had my first taste of fear for the night...just a taste, but it was real.
The great unspoken truth is that profiling is a big part of this occupation, it has to be. The fact that profiling has received such a negative connotation in the last 10 years speaks more, in my opinion, to the weakness of our national character than anything else. This is one of the most valuable instincts that all animals share. Pattern recognition has long been critical to our survival, whether it was the ability to recognize and react to the striped hide of a tiger, or the ability to notice that something is just doesn't seem right. Learning the alphabet or colors via flash cards is all about pattern recognition. Every time an officer is on duty, they are constantly besieged with additions to their mental rolodex of flashcards and it is ignorant for us, as the general public, not to hope that they would use this to our benefit. I used to get more "attention" than I may have liked when I was younger and dressed a certain way and wore my hair a certain way, but I never took this personally. I recognized that I fit a pattern and decided that I liked the way I looked more than I disliked the occasional downside. I personally hope that every officer is using these techniques when they are on duty for my safety, and for theirs.
After that first stop, we were approached by a gentleman who had parked ahead of the car we had just pulled over. For my protection, I was left in the car, but I was able to make out a good portion of the story...assuming it was "mumble mumble oof oof" repeated over and over again. Maybe it was for the best that I couldn't hear it all because the story was a sad one. This fine citizen had wanted to make a difference in the life of one of his fellow human beings who he believed was down on his luck. He had offered him a job as a painter in order to get some money in his pockets. After subsequently being robbed of his property (A camera), he had run into the guy again and offered to keep paying him for painting if he would give the camera back. The way he saw it, everyone makes mistakes and everyone deserves a chance to make it right. Needless to say, that didn't work out and he had been waiting for an expected rendezvous to get his stuff back.
More than the fear of getting shot, this is the primary reason why I don't think I could do this type of work. There are really good people out there and the thought of them being made into victims everyday by the scummier aspects of society is something I would have a hard time dealing with. I want the world to be set right and it would be a crushing blow to see these things play out again and again, day after day.
The next several calls involved alcohol related incidents, primarily fights. This would also get really old really fast. This was a lesson I learned early in life: If you are good friends with someone, never go out to a bar with them. In my experience, alcohol not only removes inhibitions and shows you a side of people you may not otherwise see, but it also amplifies that. Once you see "behind the curtain", there is no way to see that person the same again. Given these effects, it leaves one wondering why this is legal while other drugs with lesser effects are not. I can't give any specifics about the magnitude of jerkiness involved in these incidents this night since I was once again "riding the bench" for my protection.
The next call was a report of an attempted suicide. We quickly drove over to Kaiser where the individual was reported to be. Upon arrival we didn't see anyone matching the description or the car that was described, so we checked out the Emergency Room desk. It turns out he had been there but had left to make a phone call. You may be asking yourself, as I was, why they would let someone go who had just admitted at the desk that he was suicidal. Well, here is another chance to thank your nearest lawyer. It turns out that the hospitals cannot detain someone, even in that condition, without fear of lawsuit. So the police have to do it. After a while, the person was located and checked in under code 5150 which it turns out is not just the first non-Van Halen Van Halen album but a real code for mental disturbance. I'm no psychiatrist, but I have to admit I think I have a pretty good sense of people. I doubt our subject wanted to kill himself. I doubt he even took the 10 Vicodins he claimed to have taken. I suspect that he was looking for attention, for someone to say he was worth saving, and I hope he got that "treatment" later that night.
As an aside, I regretted not having paid for private security the night that I was at Kaiser for my appendectomy. Spending several minutes in the company of what passes for "security" there made me wonder how I survived and made me pine for a day when job descriptions meant something. As far as I could tell, these guys would have been better described as comic relief. While they would have still been complete failures at this, they would have come off better than as security guards. Sad, but true.
Given that it was the Friday before a holiday weekend, Labor Day, it was somewhat of a slow night. We stopped off by the Avalon Nightclub to see if there was anything exciting brewing - there wasn't. I did get introduced to the manager who said to stop by on Friday and he would hook me up with a chance to meet Y&T before they play. While that would be cool, I am not sure whether I will do it or chicken out to avoid being left hanging if it doesn't work out. Maybe my new found persona will go for it where the old Brian wouldn't...stay tuned to find out.
The next part of the night was probably the highlight. While Santa Clara doesn't have much of a homeless problem, they have them like every other city does. The officer introduced me to one of them in a shopping center parking lot. We will call him "John" as a generic name. John's history is not very clear, but apparently he lives in the shopping center parking lot year round. While this can make for some cold nights, even here in Santa Clara, it is apparently preferable to giving up his freedom of choice (to drink) which would be a requirement for the shelter. The highlight was seeing the dignity that "John" was afforded. Rather than being run off or harassed, the exchange started with a greeting, an inquiry as to how he was doing, and a commitment to check on him later. In my opinion, the greatest gift "John" could have received was dignity and I was really happy to see this doled out. While it may not be the panacea for the homeless issue, it is something I suspect they don't receive much of.
As I learned the rest of the night, police work involves a lot of driving and looking for things that don't appear right. During the course of the night I learned some interesting facts: 1) Santa Clara has a significant methamphetamine problem, 2) the DMV is slow to enter data on registrations (As evidenced during one of our traffic stops),3) The police officer who used the car before us likes apples but apparently doesn't like disposing of the cores, 4) The fine for parking in a handicapped spot is $300 (And one could argue that it should be higher after an encounter with one of the offenders), and 5) There is a blue line on the ceiling in the Valley Fair parking garage which demarcates the Santa Clara and San Jose jurisdictions.
The last call of the night was a hit-and-run, and a major one at that. After playing pool with 5 cars, this fine specimen apparently figured he could make a run for it on his rims. Luckily he didn't make it, but I don't think that was much solace for the folks who got their cars smashed at one in the morning. It just goes to show that you can suddenly become a victim any time. At least the neighborhood had a chance to have an early morning meet and greet since the commotion seems to have roused everyone from their slumber. And that was it for the night.
So, what did I learn? While I had respect for the officer before, this has increased. It is a tough job and a particularly hard environment to maintain empathy and professionalism. I also learned that police officers have a lot of interesting stories to tell if you get them going, and it pains me not to have "poached" any for this write-up. Most importantly, going back to the movie analogy I started with, I think that to do this job requires some suspension of disbelief. It is a stark world out there and sometimes you need to be able to believe that the battle can be won with the right amount of effort, attitude, and faith. I am not sure that I could stand in their company in the final reckoning, but I am glad to see the true believers keeping the world safe for the rest of us and I like to believe I would be up to the challenge.
