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Burglary at a tow truck impound yard: the idiot suspect somehow managed to leave behind some pretty good ID: her credit
card. The name on the card matched the impounded vehicle that had been broken into….so…that was a pretty easy case to solve.

Suspicious guy in a park, being just weird enough for somebody to call 911 and let the police know he’s there. Turns out to be
the same weird guy I had been looking for earlier, after another 911 call had been made. I walk up him and ask him for ID. He
sighed and said “I don’t want to tell you.” I looked at him and said “Look you can either tell me right now, or we can wait and
you can tell the other 3 officers who are going to be here when I call them.” I got my radio out and started to ask for backup. He
sighed again. “Alight, I’ll tell you my name..” I ran his name and was advised he had a huge warrant out for his arrest. “I’m going
to prison for a few years,” he told me. “I knew this day was coming.” He told me that he had been a successful tattoo artist,
making over $80,000 a year but he had got addicted to meth. Specifically, he said he had been on the “meth diet plan” which
caused him to lose around 180 pounds in about a year. Of course being a pretty good tattoo artist is a valuable skill set in prison;
he’d be pretty popular (in good way) and have something to do while locked up.

As our police department evolved, we added to our roster a mental health behavioral specialist that went by the title of
“navigator” since she helped some of our crazier clients navigate the local mental health resources to get them the help they
needed. Among her many tips and techniques, she knew better than to ever tell anybody (especially somebody freaking out in
full-on crisis mode) to “calm down.” Her go to line was instead “Okay I need you to focus..”

There I am running code, which meant I was driving really fast, red and blue lights flashing and strobing and my siren is on and
I have to catch up to the idiot driver who just passed me driving like a freak and as I get behind him he suddenly notices the
police car in his rearview mirror so he stomps on his brakes and pulls over so stupid fast that I have to stomp on my brakes
harder, and all the gear and equipment I have on the passenger seat gets dumped onto the floor. Swear words ensue. Did the
violator get a ticket? Oh yes. If you make me slam on my brakes so hard that everything spills into a mess and my files and lunch
get poured out all over the floor..yeah…there will most definitely be a ticket issued.