Things that come out of my mouth

I have a very quick wit, and that can sometimes get me into trouble. In my years in law enforcement I have learned that if I am going to get into trouble for something, 99% of the time it is going to be for something I have said and not something I have done. I really do believe that I lack a filter between my brain and my mouth. While the shit that comes out of my mouth is humorous, there are some times I say things I probably shouldn't.

The other night I am bringing in a woman who falls into my favorite category - Princess. This girl is 20 years old and drunk off her ass. She has never been arrested before but got the pleasure of my company for Driving Under The Influence.

Now it is pretty obvious from this young lady's mannerisms and speech that she is a daddy's girl. She is making demands of me and anyone who will listen like we are some type of serving staff. When I took her to change into a jumpsuit she very forcefully told me that she was NOT going to wear that ugly thing. I explained back to her that it was her choice to wear it or not, but the choice I was giving her was she either puts it on or walks out naked. When I explained to her that she would have to walk about 45 feet past a male holding cell she relented, but made sure to tell me that orange was just not her color. Then she asked if I had something in blue, as it matched her eyes better. I just can't make this stuff up. Unfortunately for Princess Can't Hold Her Alcohol, orange is the only color I have. I explained that while I understood she was more of a "spring" coloring, she was gonna have to make do with what I offered. I did try to make her feel better by showing her that at least the sandals matched the jump suit, but I don't think she appreciated my efforts.

I take her Highness over to medical and stand by while listening to the longest, most painful medical I have ever heard. I'm pretty sure had my Nurse not stopped her, she would have explained the traumatic experience she had coming out of the womb. She denied any current medical problems but complained at length that the hand cuffs hurt her wrists and now she was going to have carpal tunnel syndrome. Then she asked if she could have an MRI on her wrists because she was afraid the coldness of the metal on the handcuffs might have damaged her joints. One of her fake nails was broken off and she was very concerned that she was going to contract MRSA in the jail since she might have an open wound under the broken nail. This medical lasted well over thirty minutes, which is about 28 minutes longer than my patience did with her.

Once the medical was finally completed I escort her over to the holding area. I decided to put her in a single cell, since I was afraid of what might happen had I thrown her to the wolves in general holding. As much as she irritated me I couldn't send her in there, as I know they would have eaten her alive. So I'm directing her into the cell, and she is refusing to go. As much as I would love to "assist" her into the cell, I'm really trying to use people skills and talk her in. Anyone who has ever had to deal with a drunk knows how effective that is.

She proceeds to tell me that she is NOT going into that cell and she DEMANDS that I let her use the phone to call her daddy. She then starts rambling about how daddy is a lawyer and he will come get her and (my favorite) "people like me do not belong in jail". I couldn't resist and had to ask just what kind of people she was referring to. Her answer - "You know, people like ME. Good people. People with money and class. I don't belong in jail with all these poor people". That was the last straw for me, and I couldn't have controlled what came out of my mouth next even if I wanted to. My line?

"Well Princess, when you are in your castle you can do whatever you would like. But when you are in MY castle you play by MY rules. Now step in".

The last part was added to by a gentle push on her shoulder into the cell. When I closed the door she proceeded to scream a high pitch scream at the top of her lungs and throw a tantrum that would put a two year old in a candy store to shame. She then spent the next few hours alternating between screaming and sobbing "I want my daddy". She was still there when I left that night.

Princesses irritate me. Drunk princesses really irritate me.

I probably shouldn't have said what I did, but I have to admit it felt good. And I'd probably say it again.