Sunday, May 18, 2008

why I am not sleeping at 3:20 in the morning

because I am contemplating my safety and reliance on the police to serve me in my time of need. I got off work around ten tonight. I was working in my boyfriend's neighborhood and we had not hung out in a while so I stopped over to chat and get a hug after a long day. We ended up talking and playing on the internet until about 1am and then I headed home. This is later than I usually am out, but not by that much.

I exited the expressway at Bryn Mawr and headed down my usual route down Avondale past the Norwood Park District. Its a semi busy side street running alongside a railroad track. I grew up in this neighborhood with my grandparents. The car in back of me was acting weird. All of sudden it sped up real fast and then turned and swerved into the other lane (would have been oncoming traffic, but there was not traffic) and up into the park field and smack into a light pole. I pulled over and jumped out and was like Oh my goodness are you ok? The guy creeped out his smashed door and was like, " arrumllrkjgnjfg." Then, "he cut me off!" "Who?" I asked. I was the car in front of him and as I stood before him I hoped I was clearly a female.

His car was smashed onto the pole, his tire was decimated and was sunken deep into the muddy field which was still wet from the rain. I was like "Are you ok?" He reeked of liquor. Having worked in a bar for about 6 years, I can tell you this fine fellow was partaking in the whiskey this evening. He was younger than me, probaly around 23 or so I guess. At first, i didnt know what to do, I was in helper mode - like how can I help him? He was trying to push his car out (it was in park) and I offered up the idea of putting it in neutral. He had to climb in from the passenger side. Then he called his friends and slurred to them that they had to come get him and someone cut him off and blah blah blah. I was so confused. It was a straight street, one lane in each way no turn off... Who cut him off and how? I told him he should probaly call a tow truck and he told me I could leave. So I did, but not before I got a super special glimpse of him pissing almost on the side of his car.

Seriously, what the frosted cheerios was he thinking?

As I drove away, I started to get mad. This wanker could have hit me! This wanker could have hit someone else, and killed them. I was mad, infuriated, scared. As I hit the next stop light and I looked in my rearview mirror I saw an undercover cop behind me (M in the license plate) and got out of my car and went up to his. "Are you a cop?" I asked. "Maybe" he said. ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
"Oh, ok. Well, funtimes." I said. Then I told him of the situation about two blocks back. He did not seem to give a rats behind. He seriously had NO reaction. "Ok, thanks. The light is green," was basically all I got there. As we drove on, he pulled into a 24 hour food place to my complete horror. So I did what any rational, calm civic minded person would do. I called 911 and drove back to the guy but parked across the field. I wanted to see the cops come for some reason. I thought it would make me feel better or something. I anticipated waiting like 5 minutes. I live in a low crime area, I still have faith in the police, I though a drunk guy hitting a pole would be a high priority, etc. So twenty minutes pass. Seriously yes I sat across the park from this guy for twenty minutes at now almost 2 in the morning after working ten hours. In this twenty minutes, my friend peed again on the grass and his friends came. As they arrived fresh from the club, a girl spilled out of the car and pulled her pants down and peed right there on the grass as other cars drove by and her male friends stood surveying the situation. They tried to push the car out for like ten comical minutes. I got angrier and angrier as the minutes ticked by with no police. At the twenty minute mark, I called 911 back. Seriously, I did. I was like HI I called about a drunken man beaching his car in the park after smashing into a pole like 20 minutes ago and no one has responded. The man assured me they were sending an officer. I was mad, this guy is drunk and driving and way to close to my home, my car, my life. 25,26,27,28,28 minutes no cops. 29 through 39 minutes no cop either. Finally, 41 minutes later a cop arrives. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? I left as soon as he pulled up as if I was reassured justice would be served. This is perverse. This accident was about half a block from the fire station and no more than a mile from the police station.

Things I could have done in 41 minutes:

been at home sleeping
physically digested and passed 1 or 1.5 drinks depending on my body weight
(thats from my ServeSafe class)
changed this dope's tire for him
walked to the police station and back
hopped on one foot to the fire station three times

I wonder what the cops were doing for that 41 minutes?

1 comment:

Simon said...

You could also have been writing a blog post about an otherwise uneventful evening, but instead, you had something to write about. ;o)

Seriously, I agree that cops need to get their priorities straight. On the couple of occasions I have dialled 911/999, I have seen a majorly slow response from police for criminal matters, and a relatively fast response from the ambulance (thankfully). Police, however, seem to respond at the speed of light to speeders. People doing 8 mph over the limit, like a friend of mine who was caught in a 75mph zone near our house.