My First Encounter

"So I’m finding out that myself and strippers don’t mix."

Not at all. And when I say not mixing, I mean an oil- water combination. My partner has always told me, “Oh don’t you worry, you will be able to tell instantly when it’s a stripper that you’ve pulled over.” I’ve always wondered about that. Cue first encounter with pulling over a stripper. You never know what you’re going to get when walking up to a car. I think more along the lines of  "hope for the best, plan for the worst."  So far, at least at last count, I still have 10 toes and 10 fingers.

"The first thing I noticed when I walked up to the window was the eyes that followed my every move through the side mirror." Most people begin squirming in the car, trying to find paperwork or look at the flashing lights behind them, find them too bright, and then look forward. I thought that was a bit odd…but nope, those eyes stared right at the back me defiantly. She was prepping for a fight. “Here we go,” I thought. It had already been an emotionally draining and chaotic night and I sensed it wasn’t going to get any calmer.  My 6^th sense was already going off.  I knew she couldn’t see me walking up to her car, but she was still looking back. The window rolled down and I knew it this was going to be a game of wits.

"As soon I stuck my head down to talk to her at her tiny car, she blew a cloud of smoke into my face. Cue boiling anger." Biggest pet peeve ever is when someone blows smoke into my face. “Ma’am, please put the cigarette out while I talk to you.” Defiant eyes stared right back at me.” She flipped her hair back, took another hit blew it the opposite way and then flipped the cigarette right past my left ear. “Sure darling.” Cue second bout of boiling anger. I hate it when females use the words “Sweetie, darling, honey, or any affectionate term with talking with me.”  My anger was through the roof. But was I going to do, arrest her for being a jerk? She was sizing me up, poking and prodding. “Very well,” I thought, “Two can play this game.”

“Ma’am, State Police can I see your license and registration please?” Usually when talking with a normal person, they are a bit flustered, begin scrambling around the car searching for their information, and 90% of the time pause momentarily to look at me while I explain the reason for my traffic stop. Most people end with “I’m sorry officer, here’s my information, I’m running late etc…” Most times it’s all about the attitude. Not with this chick, she raised herself up higher using her steering wheel and looked me dead in the eye. “What in the hell did I do wrong??” “Oh here we go,” I thought.

 Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame strippers for being rude, they deal probably with more idiots than I do a night, and if someone touches me I can take them to jail. I do, however, blame strippers who are rude to me. I’m about as respectful as it comes when doing my job. And when you change lanes without a turn signal, blaze across two lanes of traffic and attempt to turn the wrong way onto a 1 way street, well that’s going to warrant a little talking to.

After I explained all this to her, she responded with the classic line. “There’s people getting killed in this city and you have nothing better to do than pull me over?” Cue another bout of boiling anger from the pet peeve jar. She then stared at me for a couple of cold seconds while I looked right back at her. I again repeated myself, “Ma’am license, registration, AND proof of insurance please.

She gave me a look that could have killed cancer and turned around to look in her glove box. I lowered my head a bit more to get a whiff of the car. And there it hit me.  The overwhelming smell of perfume, cologne, and cigarettes. It was almost as if someone had set off a perfume bomb in the vehicle, put a week’s worth of old cologne in it, and then covered the car with smoke. Instantly it popped into my brain, “Ma’am, where are you coming from?” This delightful individual once again killed me with kindness.  “Where do you think? Strolling downtown?” She gave me a look that assumed I was dumb and stated “I work at the strip club.” “Ok, ma’am I’m just asking.” I returned to my car where my partner immediately informed me that she had a warrant for her arrest. After a brief conversation, I returned to her car.

 For privacy, we will nickname this girl Stacy. As I returned to Stacy’s car I prepped for the worst. “Stacy, can you step out of the vehicle for me please?” Again, the glaring eyes. “What did I do wrong?”  As a police officer when I ask you to step out of the vehicle I’m not doing it to have a little chat on the side of the road because I can see that your legs are cramping up. Usually it ends with me putting you in cuffs. Again, I repeated myself, “Ma’am I’m not going to ask you again, step out of the vehicle you have a warrant for her arrest.” Stacy looked up at me again, smiled, and flicked her hair and then stated “Wow, look at you Mr. tough guy asking a girl to step out of the car. Don’t you feel like a hero all high and mighty?” There are very few people in the world, if any that can push me to lose my temper. I was thinking of all the smart aleck comebacks I could say to this girl. She had managed to hit all my button’s in one conversation and I was about to lose it with her. And she knew it. But one thing I pride myself on is taking the high road, being respectful, holding my tongue and let the courts figure it all out.

See what Stacy didn’t know was that even before I went back up to the car to arrest her, I was planning on releasing her that night. Her warrant was a type where you could either haul her down to jail or release her on an OR bond. She had no clue that I was going to get her information in the car, take her out of cuffs, give her a court date, and let her go on her merry way. However, as I escorted her back to the car the name calling continued. Once she was secured in the back of my vehicle, she shut down. 1 word replies. Short responses. Curt answers. She was on the defensive, and was fighting like a caged animal.

It had been a long night. My partner who was sitting next to me received the same treatment from her. “Ma’am why are you being so disrespectful towards us, what did we do?” he asked. Short pause. I looked back at Stacy. She defiantly responded “I was at work all day getting hit on, grabbed, and poked. I’ve been on my feet all day, and all I want to do is GO HOME AND SLEEP.” She practically shouted it at us. My blood was boiling. My partner immediately countered. “Ma’am there is nothing better that I would rather do than to let you go home and sleep. But you have to understand that this is MY job. You had the warrant. You did the deed. Please respect it, and please respect us.” Her response: “I still didn’t do anything.”

Stacy threw in one last shot as I filled in the last of her information into the computer. “You guys really have nothing better than harass people huh?? When’s the last time you had a tough night? You haven’t had as tough a night as I had I bet you. I’ve been on my feet all day, dealing with idiots. You guys barely do anything I bet.”

My partner paused and clicked his pen into his breast pocket before calmly answering her. “Stacy you are getting released tonight. My partner is going to walk around to your side of the car, get your signature, and you will be free to go this night. Please show up for court.He then calmly continued. “ And Stacy, please do not assume anything about my partner and I. "We don’t judge you for what you do, please do not judge us for what we do." I looked in the rear view mirror at Stacy. She had a dumbfounded look on her face. My partner continued “And for your information Stacy, before pulling you over, our last call was responding to a homicide where a young man was tracked down and shot to death at a poker game no more than an hour ago. So please don’t assume.”

Stacy was silent as I got her out of the car. She looked at the ground as she signed her signature to her OR bond. As I bid her a good night, Stacy apologized. “I’m sorry officer. I was acting like an idiot.”

 There was not much that I could say to Stacy except what my partner had just stated to her. “Once again Stacy, I don’t judge you, please don’t judge me. Please drive safe and show up to court for your appearance.” Stacy nodded and got back into her car and drove off.

I then continued on with my night.

"This is why strippers and I do not mix."