Don't Tread On Me

Okay, why am I hoarse again? I’ll tell you why, because I had to yell my ass off again, last night. That’s right, I am a yeller. That is what I do. I try not to, but when the situation gets out of hand, rather than use force, I yell. Yeah, we have already established this.

This morning was the day of one of my patented bar checks. That is where I, a group of officers of my choosing and members from community prosecution, fire marshals, health, safety, comptrollers office and TABC get together and focus on what is wrong with some of our more problematic bars. Sometimes we go with a zero tolerance state of mind and others we are just there to provide protection as the others that I mentioned do their jobs. It is all my call since I am the man running the ship. That’s right, they all answer to me. Bet you didn’t know your man, One Man, had it like that, huh?

Anyway, since we had thirteen locations we were going to focus on and a limited amount of officers, I figured this was not the time for zero tolerance. What that means is, I tell my officer we are just there for crowd control. We only make arrest if the situation demands it, but by all means, if you see ticketable offences, then have at it. Everything was started off well enough. We respect everyone and everyone respects us; that is how I like it. Especially since the reality is that we are always out number when we go to these things and all one can hope for is voluntary compliance.

We are on our tenth club when a couple of officers get in chase with a couple of guys who car jacked someone at gun point. I hear it on the radio, as the officer are requesting back up and giving their direction of travel. By this time, the officer that I rode out with has gone to take a drunken man, who can not follow simple instructions (she asks him to move around and instead of doing so, he props himself up on the hood of a car and tells her that she can’t tell him what to do. Oh, yeah. That’s going to fly. “click-click”) to jail for public intoxication. I am getting into the back of the car with a couple of my reserve officers and I tell them to take me to the chase, since I have not heard anyone answering up to go that way.

Now, I still have an obligation with this bar check so I get on my cell phone, call a couple of my troops and put them in control of the next bar until my return. I got out to the chase. By the time we make it out there the suspect have bailed out of the truck that they have stolen. The officers are about to catch one, but not before they wreck into the front in the vehicle. Minor damage, no one seriously hurt; so it’s all good.

Sgt. Alright by me, shows up, along with the Lt. So, after I make sure everything is okay. Give the dispatcher the exact location to where we are and am assured by Sgt. Alright by me that he has everything under control (yes, they are looking for the two other criminals that bailed), I tell my reserve officer that we have enough officers out and to take me back to the bar check. Well, en route one of the reserve officers tells me that Officer Quick Tempered has sent all of my City employees home and disregarded the remained of the bar checks.

What the fuck! “He did what?” I ask.

“I just got a message saying that he canceled the rest of the bar checks.”

“Why the heck would he do that?” I want to know. “That is not what I told them to do.”

“I don’t know,” the reserve office replies. “You want me to call him.”

“Yes, please do.”

He calls Officers Quick Tempered and I Made Him Cry on the phone to see if we are too late to gather the bunch back together again. He says it is because they are gone. I am pissed. What the hell is going on here! If I trust you do something. Do it! I mean, I was gone no more than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. The club that I sent them too was packed and I know how long it takes for the other organizations to handle up on their business there. There was no way they had completed everything in that short amount of time.

It just so happens, as we are headed that way, the two officers in question come tearing around the corner. The reserve officers rolls down my window so I can speak with them.

“What happened,” I ask. “Why did you dismantle the bar check. That is not what I asked you to do.”

“Well, boss (yeah, he calls me boss),. We got together with the members of Community Prosecution and decided that since you were the controlling supervisor out on the chase it was better to send them on their way and have them fax you all of their activity. (Yeah, right. And my name is Willy Foo-Foo. I know full well that a chase was going on and yall gunho ass bastards wanted to get in on it, so instead of doing the job in entrusted unto you, you decided to half ass it so you could join in the fray. Well, no such look bitches.) That’s right. I told them to clear in answer calls.

Anyway, my suspicions were confirmed when I went to the station and to two ladies from the fire marshal’s office show up to get the station fax number. They let me know that they had been rushed through the club and told to get in and out by Officer Quick Tempter. This does little to dampen my own temper. She also tells me that she drove by the after hours spot, that she really wanted us to look into, on the way to the station and they were still going hard. Keep in mind that it is almost four o’clock and this is not New York City. We have a cut off time in Dallas. I tell her, okay, most off my officer are out answering calls, but I can get a couple together and we will head out that way with her and her partner. She tells me that I will need more than a couple of officers, and I tell her that I am more than I couple of officers (yeah, cocky, I know).
I call another set of my officers, who I hear on the radio and ask them where they are at. They tell me they are out at the scene of the chase looking for any evidence that might have been dropped by the suspects. I tell them to come to the station, there is enough officers out there. And do you know this bastard has the nerve to ask me why. I am not in the mood to be questions at this point. If I direct you to come to the station, come to the station. And I tell as much. I wait fifteen minutes, they have not shown up yet and so we head to the after hours spot without them. We are on the freeway when they call me on my cell asking where I am. I tell them and instruct them to meet me there RFN (right fucking now).

We arrive at our destination and this place is packed. People all on the streets, both side and the club is over flowing, both inside and out. However, no one is being disruptive, so I am good. However, my Fire Marshall ladies have went into this packed club by their lonesome. I enter with two other officers and instruct them not to let anyone leave until the fire marshals can get a head count. Well, people decide to head out the back door. I have to exit the front and make an angry stride around to the back-This is not a short walk. When I get back there there is a group of people exiting. I tell them to go back inside. They stop in look at me, you know, to see who is talking to them. Okay, I don’t have a problem with that. But this one guy keeps right on walking.
“Sir, I said to go back inside.” Still acts like he does not hear me. “Sir, I said for you to turn around and go back inside! Please, don’t make me come after you!”

“Who me?”

“Yes, you!”

“Well, hold up motherfucker! You don’t have to get all crunk!”

“Well, if you learn to follow instruction, sir! Maybe I wouldn’t have to get all crunk!” I am following them back into the club now.

“Fuck, they need to make up there mother fucking mind!’ he is say…”First they tell us not the leave out the front door, then they don’t want us to leave out the back!”

Are you kidding me? I head right to the DJ booth, because I need to nip this shit in the bud before it gets out of hand. As it stood, inside the club alone we were out number fifteen to one. I instruct the DJ to turn off the music and ask him if the mike works. He turns down the music, hands me the mike and I make my announcement.

“Lady’s and gentle, my name is Sgt. One Man. I am with the Blankity-Blank substation. Let me make something perfectly clear. The main purpose of me and my officers being here is so the ladies from the fire marshal’s officer can see if this location is up to code. We are not here for the patrons. That being said, we have not disrespected anyone inside hear and I will not tolerate anyone in here disrespecting me or any of my officers. So I am going to tell you right now, if you have a friend or if you are standing next to someone with a bad attitude, it would behoove you to keep that person in check; because I promise you that I will only take the actions of one person in her for me to take this bar check to a whole ‘nother level and I will have each and everyone of you checked for warrant and I will send for every paddy wagon we have in this district and start taking people to jail for warrants and public intoxication. This especially goes out to the man who thinks that we need to make up our motherfucking minds. Do we understand each out, up in here? (yes, I did say “up in here”)

“Yes, sir!” from the majority of the patrons.

“Thank you.”

(Okay, this is dragging on, but that is at least half of the reason why I am hoarse).

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.