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I found a fugitive in the woods near a car wash; I took him into custody and he got booked into the jail. But he couldn’t take the
beer he had with him; about a dozen bottles in a large shopping bag. I suggested we stash it in the woods nearby and maybe
when he got of jail he could get it back. He agreed. A week or two later I was at the car wash getting my patrol cleaned and I
made the car wash attendant’s day when my conversation with him started out as “Hey? Do you like beer?”

When I first started my career, the officers’ work schedule was filled out by hand on a large written dry erase white board on the
squad room wall. So back in those days, when an officer wanted to take a day off or come in to work maybe a few hours later
than scheduled, he’d have to call an on-duty officer and ask them to go to the office and look at the board and see what the work
schedule looked like. And because this was before cell phones were invented, the only option was to call the phone at the office
and hope somebody was actually there at that moment to pick it up.

I never wrote tickets to delivery drivers. Only one time did I give a ticket to a kid delivering pizzas; he really, really deserved it.
I had a coworker once issue a notice of infraction to a UPS driver who was going a little too fast. The poor UPS guy came to the
PPD immediately afterward and wanted to file an appeal with the Chief, who of course told him to just go to court and resolve
it that way. Grant, the idiot officer who wrote the ticket was his usual dumb proud self. “He’s a professional driver, he should
know better than to speed,” he told me. “Yeah but the UPS guy? The guy who delivers boxes and presents to your door? Really?
You couldn’t just scare him with a warning?!?”

Sometimes I’d slip a bizarre ethnic food into our refrigerator at work - like canned clam juice, a pack of dried seaweed, or a
plastic wrapped tray of chicken feet. And write a name on it that wasn’t mine. Eventually people would get mad that Dave’s
crazy food was sitting there uneaten taking up space in the fridge and they’d go yell at him to eat his food already and Dave
would wonder why people were yelling at him to eat his seaweed. Bonus points to label food with a name that more than one
employee had so both Daves, or both Dans, or both Jasons would be confronted and both would be equally confused.