| Another in a series of Looooooooooooooooooooong Updates |
[11 Aug 2009|08:19pm] |
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mood |
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 pessimistic |
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Ok, so I think I posted (too tired to fully check) a couple months back about the supervisor job. If I didn't, yeh, I'm a supervisor now. Oh and I'm also the acting supervisor over another unit that had a dimbulb step down.
So I'm managing two separate units, with about 25 people in both of them combined. Which is a bit over the recommended daily dosage of minions.
Burning the wick at both ends, getting frustrated and considering the application of smallish, blunt and mass-heavy objects in order to rectify problems.
I know whereof the mad glint in the eye comes when the word "management" is mentioned.
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| Ch-ch-ch-changes |
[29 Dec 2008|09:43pm] |
........Ok, so things are changing again.
The supervisor has retired and I am going to be the Acting Supervisor until they can hire for the position, which may be a couple of months. Of the place where I work.
I'm working a day shift again, and Monday through Friday.
Several people are not happy about it (possibly including me) but I'm going to do the best I can and try to not wind up a complete nutter.
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| Epic Shoplift |
[03 Jul 2008|06:03pm] |
Ok, so this is gonna be a quick one before I go into work.
Goober gets picked up for Shoplifting under $100 the other night. And, of course, he's on Probation. I slap him silly with an Arrest & Hold and then pull the criminal complaint.
Seems that Goober McMoron attempted to shoplift 6 Nutribars. Yes, yes indeed...6 Nutribars that he attempted to shove into the waist band of his sweat pants while in Wal-Mart.
See, that's stupid. If you're gonna violate your conditions of supervision, go big.
"Offender was noted by Loss Prevention personnel attempting to conceal a plasma screen TV under his shirt."
OR
"Say, aren't you the guy who tried to shoplift a BMW?"
"Yes, yes I am."
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| ...Yeh, and you left some money in here too |
[07 Jun 2008|01:57am] |
Now, the other thing about doing my job is networking. Having contacts that you can go to for information and to request things.
So, the other night, I happened to notice that a goober, let's call him Timbo Strong, had been brought in on new charges of Assault. Offender was also showing as ROR (Release on Own Recognizance) which indicates that while he was still in the jail, he was mere minutes from release. The following is what transpired.
Offender is scheduled to be ROR'd after having been arrested on charges of Assault on the Person of Another and wanted to check if he was on Probation. Confirmed he is on supervision and requested they not allow him to go and that I will be sending out an A&H.
Received call back from Alexis @ Records advising that Offender had already been released but that they are attempting to get him back into custody to book him on the A&H at this time. She will keep us apprised.
Alexis called back to report the Offender is in custody on our A&H. Thanked her profusely.
See, they thought he had already been released and was being transported in the bus to town. They radio'd the bus and had it turn around to check for the Offender. He wasn't on the bus. They had one of the Jail guards check the parking lot for the Offender, but he wasn't there. Then they got the Offender's cell phone number off his booking documentation and called him. They told him that he had forgotten to sign some paperwork that was instrumental in his release and he needed to return to sign it. Offender said he would be right there......and walked back into the jail under his own power and willingly even. Once back inside the jail, the door closed and he was in custody.
To quote Mel Brooks: "It's good to be king."
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| Hook, Hook, Hooking!! |
[07 Jun 2008|01:49am] |
Received telephone call from Tatterdamalion County SO Deputy Martinez advising that the Offender Rosemary Dahlia had been in a truck that he had stopped on a county road tonight. Driving the vehicle was Thetus Hail who told the Deputy that he had picked the Offender up in the Broadway area of town and there had been an agreement of $50 for sex. Offender Dahlia did admit to a predilection for women but, if money was involved, admitted she would have sex with anything. Mr Hail was taking to the Offender to his house. Per the Offender, however, she had solicited a ride from Mr Hail, and she did not know his name, first or last, and that he was taking her home, which so happened to be in the exact opposite direction they were traveling in. Based upon the Association and the suspicious nature of the remainder of the contact, authorize an A&H for Offender. Requested that Sgt Martinez call us back if there any other concerns for inclusion in the report.
Deputy Martinez called back and reported that 2 cold, unopened beers were found in the floorboard in front of the Offender. Per Mr Hail, he had met the Offender several nights ago while drinking in a motel and the Offender was there with several friends. When he saw her tonight, the subject of sex came up and the Offender stated that she would have sex with him for $50. The Offender was also in possession of a room key, and the Deputy is going to have someone go to the hotel and check on the room, and if the room is in her name, they are going to search it if possible, and anything in the room she will have constructive possession of. He will keep us apprised.
Yeh, when I first got the call, it was only Association with Persons Detrimental to Supervision, and a long stretch at that. But asking questions and filling in the blanks turned it into a pretty righteous arrest, although we never heard back about additional stuff in the room, that information might have just gone straight to the PPO.
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| And Lo, Shall the Smiting Intensify and Cause Much Smarting, Like Pouring Lemon Juice on a Paper Cut |
[07 Jun 2008|01:04am] |
Ok, now in direct contrast to that last story (What? Waddayamean ya haven't read it yet? Go read it nowl.) is this one where things panned out pretty good.
A bit of background to it though, to explain things.
We had gotten two phone calls from the goober who sounded drunker'n a lord. I mean, you've heard of drunk dialing? This was obliterated dialing. And we could barely understand him, he wasn't exactly verbally gifted at this point in his life, his words slurred and unable to remember what he'd said 2 minutes prior. He just kept asking for his PPO. Now, it was late, about 2200, and my general rule is, you can piss up a rope unless you're bleeding out about talking to your PPO after 2130. Just a general rule. I had tried to get more information from this goober myself, but nothing doing, he hung up on us twice as we tried to get the information.
So,here's where the following verbiage picks up with the story:
Based upon concerns regarding possible intoxication, or medical problems, that Offender Melon-Head Johnson might be experiencing, did contact Lower Mongolia Dispatch and request that an Officer go by the last listed address of Offender to conduct a welfare check. Requested that responding Officer contact us to let us know of contact, or any negative thereof.
Received telephone call from Officer Muldoon, who advised that he had spoken to Offender in the hotel room and, indeed, the Offender was intoxicated and was somewhat belligerent when Officers spoke to him, to wit, when Officers knocked on the door several times, Offender Johnson opened the door violently and screamed, "What the fuck do you want?!!" Officer Muldoon reports he is feeling slightly buzzed after the exhalation of breath from Offender Johnson. Queried if the Officer could go ahead and take the Offender in custody, based upon the alcohol violation and the possible danger to himself and he advised that he could.
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| Wait.......What? |
[07 Jun 2008|12:54am] |
Ok, so I said I was gonna try and put some emails up, as they're the only time I get to have interaction. Of course, some things have been changed to protect the guilty.....and the innocent.
Received telephone call from BFE County Dispatch, who requested I contact Officer McGehe regarding Offender Maynard O'Dalton, which was done. Offender did $95 worth of gas fraud at a gas station in Slobovia tonight but, when he left, he forgot his credit card at the station. The Offender was tracked down to a Travelodge there in town, where he had a room. In the room were observed to be several "tweakers" with the Offender and, the Offender did admit to Officer McGehe that he had smoked Methamphetamines three days ago. Offender is not going to be cited for the gasoline theft as the Officer told him he would not be arrested if he got someone there to pay for the gas, although he has been "criminal trespassed" from the station. Based upon the change of address, association with "tweakers" and the Offender's admission of drug use, requested FPD to take Offender into custody, which they were reluctant to do based upon them telling him that if someone paid for the gas, they would not arrest him. Requested a second time if they would arrest him for us if I fax'd them the paperwork, and they requested that his PPO arrest him at the Office when he reported this AM. I advised I was reluctant to leave that as an option based upon a suspicion that he might run, but the Officer felt he would not do that. After trying for two times to get the Offender taken into custody and the Officer's reluctance to do so, I conceded the point and requested that the Offender be given verbal direction to report to his PPO's Office at 0800, which the Officer agreed to do. No A&H issued.
Now, the problem with this was that, if you read the text, the Offender was living in a motel room, and had never received permission from his PPO to change his address. He admitted to drug usage, was hanging out with other drug users and attempted to commit fraud for almost $100 worth of gas. And the officer wouldn't arrest the goober. Swear to buddha, if I ever learn how to do the force-choke over the phone...........
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| Thank You for Calling, My Name is Igor, How May I Help You? |
[17 Mar 2008|03:22pm] |
So, it's been 8 months, almost, that I've been at the new job. We do a lot of things and I've got the responsibility for my shift. I'm what is called a "Lead Officer," but the power isn't fully invested yet. I call myself a Data Miner though. I mean, sure, we take phone calls from both the Offenders and Law Enforcement, but as most PPO's, statewide I've discovered, don't keep the database updated the way they should, I have to check out online data for the courts, track down where the goober should be and where he's been, monitor data points in the GPS-array for the sex offenders and conduct audits of the other PPO's. Yeh, doesn't sound like much eh?
We've got three arrest logs that we check through for goobers to have been arrested, two are online and one is a fax we receive. How wonderfully archaic for the fax huh? Sometimes we have to compare SSN's, FBI#'s, height & weight and scars, marks and tattoos. All of this to figure out if the goober is actually "ours." By that, I mean a goober who falls up under the jurisdiction of my department, or should fall under that jurisdiction. I have access to NCIC, court records, Misdemeanor records and arrests and can even pull criminal complaints and booking sheets if the need arises.
We monitor what is currently an infinitesimally small number of sex offenders that are on active GPS systems. By "active" I infer that the system they carry has a cell phone and we receive updates on where they are all the time. If you know the "ins & outs" of the system and have some tech-savvy, you can do a great deal more. And yes, in answer to your lifted eyebrow, I can do a great deal more.
We take phone calls from the goobers, statewide, and get to listen to them whine. Sometimes the family calls and they whine too, especially if goober was arrested and the family wants to bitch out the PPO. Considering that I work at night, I act as the doorman/bouncer for the PPO's. I don't put many phone calls through unless we're talking life or death emergency here. Or, maybe if it's before 2100. They don't understand that I'm a PPO too and that I can answer most of their questions. Not that I really care. Most of the time, it's more of a hostile-action telephone call between me and the goober. Only difference is, here, I can't reach across my desk and kill them. *Note to Self - Begin research into activation of Midichlorians in my system so that I can force choke over the phone.*
We've had a few bad ones over the last couple of months, ones where we put a No Bond Arrest and Hold into place to restrict the goober from Bonding out. Sometimes, they've already posted the bond for their new charges when they discover they can't get released. Sometimes, they're already gone. And if they get new charges, then they're usually the bad ones. Child Abuse Resulting in Great Bodily Harm or Death; Possession of a Firearm; Criminal Sexual Penetration of a Minor; Rape; Murder in the First, or Second, Degree. Driving While Intoxicated/Driving Under the Influence has become blase and is almost routine now.
The outlying areas of Law Enforcement love the hell out of us. They call up, tell us how the goober has been messing up and, if the goober is in custody, we issue the No Bond. Goober is taken into custody. It's the LE in the big towns that don't utilize us the way they should. But hey, that's on them. They know we're here, vishnu knows, I've sent out enough faxes to them with our contact number on it.
We do paperwork too, although that's not that exciting. Entering field calls, auditing files and the desktops of PPO's (where they have all their goobers). We do other paperwork-type stuff but it's difficult to classify. And yes, I now have those little "finger condoms" that are used to help turn the pages. Although I had to get them on my own as the Department is loathe to spend money.
What I'll try and do is go back and find some of the good telephone calls I've taken and post them. It's easy to do that as I also send out emails for everything I do now. Some things will, of course, have to be changed to protect the guilty.
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| Tick Tock Tick Tock |
[01 Dec 2007|05:45am] |
And just like that, time passes by.
So it's been a couple of months. I've changed jobs, I'm still working for the Department of Corrections and am still a Probation & Parole Officer, but now I'm at the Probation & Parole Response Center, which is essentially a 24/7 call center. We take phone calls from the Minimum risk goobers and also phone calls from Law Enforcement. I work the graveyard shift and am a Lead Officer, which was a promotion and extra bit of money. But I'm not having the same degree of interaction with the goobers, I'm not going into their homes, I'm not arresting them in the office, giving them UA's or anything like that. So a significant downturn in things to talk about. I may be able to verbally smack someone down over the phone, but it's not the same. I do miss the excitement and, lemme tell ya, working the graveyard shift all the time now (what with my full-time job and my part-time job, both being graveyard shift) is a bit of a drain.
Let's see, I also turned 40 in the not too distant past, which was a royal BITCH, let me tell you. That changed the way I was looking at a lot of stuff, I mean, I'm not going to go out and start a hunt for a wife or anything, as I'm pretty sure that I will, barring the use of a shotgun, die a bachelor and unmarried, but things snap into perspective.
I also went on a trip to Ireland and Scotland. Took some of the money from getting my home equity loan, that I used to pay off my credit cards, and went over there. Loved the hell out of it and want to go back. I've got pictures and if anyone that reads this wants to see them, lemme know, as I've got it set to where I haveta invite people to be able to see them. I don't want "Random Internet Schmuck" to be able to see them, even if I'm only in two of the pictures.
So...that's where I'm at, in a roundabout way I suppose. I'm not really sure what I want to do with this blog now. I don't think talking about day-to-day things would be worthy, and I'm pretty sure that nobody really cares to know my opinion on things. So bear with me as I try and figure out what do do...
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| Imminent Vacation |
[08 Aug 2007|05:38pm] |
Ok, so while there haven't been any stories to share (not really, my interaction is over the phone and the stupidity has been at a low level probably based on that) I do want to update that I will be incommunicado for awhile as I'm going on a vacation that I've been planning for about the last 6-9 months.
I may turn the blog into something else upon my return as the stories are not especially forthcoming with the new job. :-P
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[08 Jul 2007|02:07am] |
Two stories in this vein boys and girls, as Uncle Igor is the PPO known for having the capabilities to test substances in the field to see if they're controlled substances (AKA illegal drugs) or not.
Ok, so the first one happened a couple weeks back when I was out in the field with Kevin. Kevin, if you've read back through the stories, is the PPO that is usually cursed with things happening to him in the Field. And this time was no different.
So we roll up on one of Kevin's guy's homes, ok, an apartment complex. Now, I've been out with Kevin before to this particular goober's residence and there's been the brother of the goober's wife on scene. Let's call said brother (brother-in-law to the goober) Danny. Now, Danny is a young kid, maybe 20 or 21, but is already on his way to being on supervision. He's had a couple of shoplifting charges and some minor possession charges (paraphernalia and THC). He's also had a warrant, which he had been instructed to take care of and, until such time, he had been directed to not hang around the residence. So we roll up this time, and who answers the door? Danny...of course. He's there babysitting a couple of the young kids. So Kevin and I start giving the home a fairly good toss, just based upon Danny's presence. But, we're not having much luck. Then Kevin comes downstairs with a shoebox that he had found under the bed. He told me that it had a peculiar odor to it but that he couldn't identify it. I took the shoebox and smelled of the inside. Now, I know I've mentioned in the past that I have friends who exist outside of my current job. By "outside" I mean that these are....partakers of the herb (THC). I don't approve, but 'tis their choice, I don't partake and I view THC as the least harmful of the drugs, on the same level as alcohol almost. Plus, I had the same kinds of friends in college. So I'm familiar with the lifestyle, verbiage and many other things in the same realm. Consequently, I'm also familiar with the "good stuff" and how it smells. You see where this is leading right? When I opened up that shoebox, I smelled the "good stuff" inside it. We're talking some primo THC that had gotten worked into the cardboard. I shifted it around a bit and was able to see some greenish substance shifting as well. So I went and grabbed a NIK test (google it) out of my pack in the car and took the shoebox to the kitchen table. I disassembled the shoebox in order to free up any "green & leafy substance" caught in the edges. Then I poured the G&LS onto a sheet of paper. There wasn't much, just enough to overflow a tad bit off of the head of a pin. But I thought it might test. Kevin had Danny sit down on the couch and was quizzing him about the stuff while a next door neighbor watched the young'uns. I tilted the paper and let the G&LS fall into the NIK test container and then went through the process of breaking the ampoules of liquid that would show whether or not the G&LS was THC or not. After breaking each ampoule, I would agitate the container to ensure that the liquid was absorbed by the G&LS. Immediately after breaking the last ampoule, the liquid in the bottom turned a very dark shade of purple. Yes boys and girls, the G&LS went from being "G&LS" to being THC. And what with the quick reaction of color change, the very good stuff of THC. At this point, the questioning of Danny became a bit more intense as we queried him on whether or not he had hidden something in the residence or on his person. And it was also at this point that, for our safety and his, Danny was placed into cuffs, even though he wasn't on Probation or Parole. I'd be able to justify it afterwards based upon officer safety, if it came to that. When I asked Danny my standard questions before search (Do you have anything on you that will cut me, poke me, bite me? Anything sharp? Anything illegal? Weapons? Hand grenades? Nuclear weapons?), he replied that he did have a small baggie of THC in his right front pocket, along with some rolling papers. I gave him a quick pat-down, frisk, found the baggie and tossed it and his property off to the side until I was done. When I checked the baggie of THC, I could immediately tell that this was not the same stuff as what had been in the shoebox. Yeh, it was THC but barely. Most of it was twigs and stems, with just a few leaves. Rolled up into an approximate version of a "dime bag" of THC, in that it would cost $10 per bag. He said he hadn't paid for it, that some friends had given it to him for free. I laughed and told him I knew why he hadn't had to pay for it and told him that he had gotten crap or bupkis. So it turns out that the stuff in the shoebox had come from the sister of the goober wife, who had been in the home a couple weeks back. Goober wound up going into custody for a couple of days due to the drugs that were found in the home, along with Danny's presence, who wasn't supposed to be there.
The second story was much more recent and involved Field Calls with Raquel. And, yet again, not one of my goobers, but one of hers. So we roll up on the goober home and approach. On approach, we notice a beer can in the front yard. Yeh, it's kinda close to a neighbor's yard and it could've come from them, but we snag it and tag it anyways. It could serve as probable cause for a more in-depth search of the residence if we need it. So we knock on the door...and knock...and knock. The door is finally answered by the goober, who doesn't have a job and is home in the middle of the day. He says he's babysitting for his sister and, indeed, there is a 5-6 year old young'un running around the residence. So goober is directed to sit on the couch as Raquel and I pillage (beer can out front and excessive time in opening the door being probable cause). I find a smallish 100-milliliter size of Jim Beam above the fridge that's been opened. Pillage around a bit more, checking the back yard, the trash cans, the fridges, everywhere. Then I go to link up with Raquel and show her my bounty. She points towards the trash can and draws my attention to a small cellophane baggie. I get out my surgical gloves and snag it. It's in the approximate shape of a "bindle" and has a caramel-colored and caramel-appearance substance on it. And, indeed, I initially thought that it was a caramel-wrapped candy...until I took it up close to my face to get a good whiff of it. Now, let me just interject briefly here that, no matter what you see on TV shows or in the movies, no cop or PPO will ever dip their pinkie finger, or any other finger, into a substance and then taste of it in order to find out what it is. That's stupid, retarded and very dangerous. Some might even think that me getting the substance 6-12 inches away from my face to smell of it might have been dangerous, but I'd argue that it wasn't that dangerous, for reasons too lengthy to go into here. So, anyways, I smelled of it, and immediately recognized the particular aroma of Heroin. So I brought it out into the living room where Raquel and the goober were and started quizzing the goober. He denied knowing what it was, and denied that it was Heroin. Amazingly enough, his drug of choice? Heroin. I pressed him for honesty with us, but he still denied. So Raquel assured me she'd be ok while I went out to the car to get a NIK test out of my bag. I grabbed a couple more pairs of surgical gloves also and some ziploc bags, and came back inside. I wasn't sure how cutting up the baggie and putting it into the NIK test would work, but I did it anyway. Small chunks of baggie, cut up with my knife, with the brownish substance on it were placed in the NIK test. After cutting it up, I noticed that my knife had gotten a good bit of residue on it and I used a bit of cellophane to get that off the blade and put it into the NIK test as well. I then cracked the ampoule, agitated the test kit and watched the liquid turn deep bluish-purple color, indicating that, yes indeed, it was Heroin. I looked at Raquel, nodded an affirmative, and then looked over at goober and asked him if he wanted to try this again. It was at this point that he finally admitted to using Heroin a couple of days ago, he'd still had the baggie in his pants pocket when we knocked on the door and, for whatever reason, he'd taken it out and thrown it onto the top of the trash in the trashcan. Goober was placed into cuffs and he was allowed to call family to come and take custody of the child so that we could transport him to jail. So his mother and sister come, we're giving them the property and about to leave. His girlfriend shows up then. Now, without being mean, she was a big girl. She weighed more than Raquel and I put together, and I ain't no lightweight. She was expressing her displeasure with goober, screaming and cursing at him. At this point, we elected to beat a hasty retreat, with goober coming along, to the jail. Right as I had goober stand up, the girlfriend threw her cell phone, followed shortly by her keys, at him. Exeunt, stage left. Only problem was, Raquel was blocking girlfriend now, along with goober's mother and sister assisting. They were family of goober and they were handling this better than the girlfriend. I was somewhat concerned about abandoning Raquel, but she told me to go ahead as she continued to run interference for me. So goober and I proceeded out to the car at a fast trot. I put him into the back seat (fortunately, we were in a caged vehicle that day anyway), secured him with the seat belt and closed the door. Then I got into the driver's seat, started the car and cut the AC on high as the day was very hot. I also rolled his window down 2-4 inches to aid in the AC's functioning. Then I looked toward the house and saw large girlfriend dodge around Raquel and come storming my way. I got out of the vehicle and blocked her from trying anything to goober as he was now in cuffs and my responsibility. She was cursing at him some more and telling him how low of an individual he was. I was still blocking her and Raquel was hightailing it to the car so we could be gone most ricky-tick. At this point, girlfriend became irate with me and started cursing me and threatening me. Not impressed. I remained calm and tried to tell her to not create a show in the neighborhood or in front of the children. She cared not and continued to threaten me, specifically at this point. Again, not impressed. Raquel hopped into the vehicle and I was still interposing my body between girlfriend and goober. Goober's mother and sister came up and pulled her back just enough for me to judge it safe and I hopped into the vehicle and we pulled away. Goober's girlfriend then took her shoe off and threw it at us. I thought that only happened in movies. And we drove off into the sunset.
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| Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes |
[23 Jun 2007|12:37am] |
Well, changes are afoot Mrs Frobish.
I have a new job, with a decently hefty pay increase coming to me, along with a little more responsibility.
I'll be moving over to the "new" 24/7 Probation & Parole Call Center where I'll be the Lead PPO for the Graveyard Shift, Monday through Thursday. All they've established about the Call Center so far is that the goobers who rank out at a score of "Minimum" on the Risk Need Assessment (ie, they're not viewed as being much of a threat) will be calling in to us. Also, if Law Enforcement has a question about if a goober is on supervision or not, or if they arrest them, they can call us to make that determination.
I won't be getting much in the way of adrenaline, which I shall heartily miss. But, for an extra $2/hour and less headaches than I currently have, I'll put up with it.
I'll still keep this going for now as I might still be getting some good stories. Especially as I'll be trying to find ways to keep myself and my team occupied during the night and might raise a bit of hell.
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| On Fame & Celebrity |
[08 Jun 2007|07:03pm] |
Just a quick note as all the news has turned to Paris Hilton and her violation of her Probation.
I would not expect to be so cursed by [fill in the blank with the god of your appropriate pantheon] as to have a celebrity on my reporting caseload. It's bad enough when I get a famous criminal, with a "high profile case" on it. Or, even though it hasn't happened to me yet, one of my goobers doing something that would get the attention of the news media to the point where it switches over to me...as it would most likely do so.
I don't need those kind of headaches. I don't need rappers or rap music moguls. I don't need actors who beat their wives or do drugs. Stay the hell away from me. It's bad enough getting the gang member out who made the news a couple years back when he did whatever crime he did. Then it's the comments about how wrong the system is in figuring out "good time" or how lax the supervision standards are. I'll, for the most part, leave those alone and just point to how "in line" my goobers are, for the most part.
But there shouldn't be a second set of legal standards for the rich and famous. If they break the law(s), they should do the time. And that's even for those people that I may like.
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| Dammit Woman, Stop Yer Bawling! |
[02 Jun 2007|01:52am] |
Time for a small exposition on the evils of female goobers. Here anymore, the goobers aren't mine as I keep a tight rein on mine and they fear me mightily. This female goober belonged to another PPO, that we'll call Terrance. And I had just happened to be passing by when I got drawn into the soap opera. I suppose it also helped that I used to be in charge of the electronic monitoring bracelet system.
Let's touch briefly on the electronic monitoring bracelets, as I have tried to avoid discussion in the past as it might only confuse people. The system that we use is based upon the Global Positioning System (GPS) and uses a map to show coordinates, placement and several other bits of data. There is a bracelet that is placed on the goober's ankle and they carry around a box that's a little bit bigger than your average clunky-sized cell phone (not one of the new tiny ones). Now, there are tamper indicators built into the system that we as PPO's look for. One of them is the bracelet tamper. If the goober messes around with the bracelet, we'll get an indication of a tamper and we're supposed to check it out and see if it's still on the ankle, in one piece, no visible damage...that kinda thing. So, of course, that means that all too often, nothing gets done.
So today, I get drawn into a check of an ankle bracelet on a female goober as I had, as noted above, once been in charge of the system...until it became too much for me as PPO's were not doing the job as they were supposed to. So I'm asked to take a look at a bracelet and give my opinion on it. I hunker down and take out my Asp light that I keep on my key ring, along with the cuff key. The Asp light as about the size of a thumb and puts out a strong blue light. So, with the light out, and going back and forth between the unaided eye and the light, I use the ol' Mark I eyeball to scrutinize the bracelet. First thing I notice are the gouges. See, the bracelet is secured with 2 linked pins on each side. Think of them like nails, connected, that are then pushed into the strap that secures the bracelet to the ankle. Make sense? So the gouges were on one side, around the pins. Closer examination showed that the pins themselves were also damaged and the plastic connector between the pins had been sheared off. That was my initial examination indication.
So the scrutinizing of the bracelet began. The female goober denied everything, of course. Then, she started the waterworks. Now, this is one of the problems with female goobers: men are weak. Now hold up, before you crease your forehead trying to figure that out, lemme explain. Female goobers have a tendency to start tearing up, or crying, and their male PPO's will to arrest them shatters in the wind. It's not that they haven't violated their conditions of supervision, it's just that the average male PPO wilts when the female goober cries. And I'm not gonna demean the male PPO's for it, for the most part...it's genetics...it's in-grained and how people are raised for the most part. It's just that the female goobers try and capitalize on it. And sometimes succeed. This particular female goober had turned on the waterworks and had had some success with it in the past. And she was trying it again. Now, let me just add that when I say the bracelet had been tampered with, I can say unequivocally that it had, indeed, been tampered with. Did the female goober knowingly participate in the aforementioned tampering? I'd say a high likelihood of that's gonna be "yes." Someone isn't gonna be jacking around with a bracelet tightly affixed around your ankle without you knowing about it...unless your dead drunk (or high) or drunk and dead.
So the female goober was denying everything and was crying. Now, early on, she had demonstrated the amazing power to shut the waterworks on and off with ease. She could go from sobbing to normal talk in 0.0 seconds flat. Then, she cut on the tears. And it was at this point that the hours of time she spent in front of the mirror with her makeup went to hell. I've mentioned it in the past, a dilemma that occurs when women cry and their mascara, or their non-waterproof mascara, starts to run down their face like a tributary off of the Amazon. The appearance of a raccoon is very apt. So, having received no breaks with her sobs, she went to step 2 of her cunning master plan and released the tears. Which had even less success. I am immune. Call me a cynic, call me a misogynist...whatever your choice. I was not impressed and told her so...which caused her distress and led to more faux histrionics. So she was transported to jail, of course.......looking like a survivor of a makeup factory explosion.
Yea verily, I am a cruel and heartless bastich.
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| Cotton-Eyed Blood |
[29 May 2007|05:02pm] |
Ok, so I'm going to assume that any person reading this, by having expressed a desire to come back more than once, is going to have a passing knowledge of some of the bigger gangs. And, of course, one of the more "infamous" gangs are the bloods. Now, the bloods have many, many "subsets" that they take into the family. One of the founding subsets are the kirktown pirus. Yeh, I should be capitalizing some of these words, but leave me alone, it's my own way of showing these punks what I think of them.
Now, there's songs, and music videos, where both the bloods and the crips, do the "shuffle" for their respective gang. And, of course, with technology and the internet being what it is, they're going to take video and post it on the internet. Thusly, if you want to see the originating video: http://www.gofish.com/player.gfp?gfid=30-1017518
Now, having seen this following dubbed video, I can't help but think of it whenever someone talks about one of the "walks" that they do: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOr8K16fJPM&search=blood%20dance
Ok, so now, having giggled at this, yet again.
I got snagged by one of the new PPO's today to help him "talk" to one of his clients (aka goober). So the newbie PPO, let's call him Stefan, had seen on his goober's phone last week where he had proclaimed And I'm gonna put in what he himself had typed, no dancing around the subject: "piru nigga". Now, remember what I mentioned above about the pirus? They're a blood subset, one of the original ones too. So Stefan had asked the goober if he was a gang member, and the goober had replied he was not, that he was born and raised in Alabama and that he was not affiliated with any gang. And red just happened to be his favorite color. Ok, quick mention here...red is the color of the bloods, blue is the color of the crips. So right off the bat, he's bragging about being a "piru" in the screensaver on his phone and he's always wearing red. Yes, we really are that stupid as PPO's.
So, Stefan asks for my assistance in grilling the guy today. I agree and move into Stefan's office to assist. I just come right out and broach the question with the goober and he starts trying to do the "shuffle" around the question by answering my simple yes/no question with a "I'm not even from here." routine. Says he's not on paper for having run with any gang and that he's only from Alabama. I thank him for that and remind him that's not the answer to my question and ask him again if he's a piru. So, you get the idea, we dance around this for about 15-20 minutes with him trying to deny it over and over again...or just redirect me, which ain't working. Says that he hasn't hung around with the pirus where I'm at. Again, not what I'm asking him. It finally comes out that, sure enough, he ran with the pirus in Birmingham almost three years ago. At this point, the beating began. I had gotten tired of his evasive little lies and dancing around the question and was asking him if he thought were were that stupid. I told him he should be very grateful that he had the PPO that he did, because if he had lied to me as much as he had and I was his PPO, that he would've gone into custody for a couple of days. So now, we've gotta enter the info for this little 19 year-old punk who tried to lie, by evasion, to his PPO...and me as well. Yeh, that last part was the one that pissed me off. By the time I'd finished, the goober was well and fully convinced that he was going to jail. And, by all rights, he should've. He was still "representing" for his gang (remember the piru phone, and dressing in red?) and he had lied to several PPO's about his past gang affiliation and history.
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| He Stuffed What? Where? |
[22 May 2007|04:10pm] |
Just a quick update here. One of the guys that got arrested today (not one of mine, I didn't even search him, all I did was transport him) gets out to the jail and the CO's descend upon him. Perhaps a training aid, I dunno. They start grilling him about why he's there (he used Cocaine), about his past history of violations (lots) and other esoterica. So they ask him if he's got Cocaine on him, to which he sagely responds that he doesn't, then they announce they're gonna search him anyways. A good plan.
We find out later that, sure enough, he had "keester'd" [to insert an object or animal into one's anal cavity] some tobacco in a baggie. The bag was the size of a tennis ball. I think that pretty much solves the question of his virginity.
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| La Migra!! |
[20 May 2007|05:22am] |
Ok, so remember a bit earlier me mentioning the coward who took off after I caught him in a curfew violation on Cinco de Mayo?
Well, I'd requested the aid of the special ops fellows and they'd coordinated a time for me to go with and hit the home. The goober was a real mommy's boy and was likely still living at home with her. So, I wanted to hit it to cement the emotional scene that the mother and I shared. She wasn't real fond of me, and I, being the nice sort that I am, reciprocated fully. She had tried to claim that I was a racist, having left a diatribe of racist spew on her son's voicemail, which he subsequently could not retrieve. Amazing eh?
So we go to the home and set up to monitor it, while we request the aid of the city police. Remember earlier when I praised them? This wasn't one of the praise times. An hour goes by and nothing from them. At about this time, it was fully light in the AM and kids were gone to school, breakfast was still being eaten by those who had to go into work, all that kinda stuff. And still, no cops. So now we had started trying to find anyone that could hit the home with us. The goober was also suspected to be an illegal. His Social Security Number had been issued in a state where snow fell and the wind blew, and I didn't think this goober would have survived long in that kind of weather. He, while still reporting, had maintained that he had been born in town, yet could not produce a birth certificate. So I had already been coordinating with ICE for them to come interview him.
So on the morning in question, we're still trying to get some assistance. Finally, about 80-90 minutes after we'd requested assistance in serving a felony-level warrant, we get two police cars show up. By then, we'd also made contact with ICE and garnered an agent who would be there within 10-15 minutes after we called. Say what you want about the Feds, but if you get the right sort of guys, they're there for ya.
So, with PD walking along, we go up to the house, where two unidentified males are hanging out. Now, I'd had earlier encounters with both mom and her boyfriend. But these two jokers in front of the home were neither of them familiar. So we had them stand off to the side while the inside was checked for my goober and, unfortunately, not found.
The ICE agent shows up about then and aids in the interrogation of both goobers. One of them, the mother's new, or second, boyfriend, is placed in cuffs as he is illegal and scheduled for deportation. The other guy is only semi-legal but can't be deported.
Final tally is ICE getting one and me pissing off mommy even moreso. Not because her boyfriend was deported, but because we came into the neighborhood and went into the home while all the neighbors watched.
Go me!
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| ...All I've got is this touch-tone phone, so I guess I'll give you a call |
[20 May 2007|12:56am] |
One of the little joys that I take is enforcement of curfew. Yea, verily, enforcement of the curfew with an iron fist and a lead-pipe efficiency reminiscent of a Leon Trotsky death-scene.
I love to go out after night falls and to check on curfew. And if I can't go out on Field Calls, I'll call them on the phone. And this has garnered me a great many arrests recently.
Got one guy who wasn't at home on the night of Cinco de Mayo. He called me about half and hour later to report he had been working. Arrested him when he came in on Monday.
Got another guy that I tagged that night too, but this coward took off. He tried to say he was "at the store" when I called. He's been in my unit almost as long as I have, if you count his time in the jail into the equation. He took off and went on the run instead of coming in for his medicine. I'll cover that situation in another entry (lots of updating going on for now folks, enjoy it whilst you can).
Just recently, I was by the home of one of my goobers maybe 2 minutes before his curfew kicked in. Left a business card telling him to call me immediately upon his return home. Also tried his home phone but it rang unanswered. So about an hour after his curfew, he calls me trying to say that he just saw my note, that he must not have been able to hear me but that he was home. I cut him off, told him to stop lying to me and admit to me that he'd just gotten home. Yea, verily, I was brusque with him. He admits it that he'd just gotten home, I tell him to report on the next day.
Called another one of my goobers as the night was drawing to a close. He had supplied me with an incorrect home phone number, so I called him on his cell phone. Heard a couple voices in the background and a low music number. Told him to call me back from his home number immediately and hung up and continued with a couple other curfew verifications. After about 7-8 minutes, goober hadn't called me back, so I called him. Told him, perhaps you didn't understand the word "immediately" so I will supply you with the definition free-of-charge, which I then proceeded to do. Gave him one minute to call me back from the landline. Which, of course, he didn't make. So I just continue to wait. He finally calls after about another 5 minutes. I confront him with his violation of curfew. No, he's adamant, he's been home. Said that he was "in the bathroom" taking care of business and couldn't call me on the landline. Says that he takes his cell phone with him in the bathroom to talk to his girlfriend in case she calls him while he's on the can. I personally think his lie is a very disturbing one. I advise him not to lie to me, and he continues to try and lie to me...for a good 2 minutes. It was at this point that I got mean with him and suggested that he not try to lie to me ever again as he is very bad at it and give him one final chance to be truthful with me, whereupon he admits that he was at the store after curfew. I tell him to report the next day and we'll talk about the situation.
The next goober had been staying at a halfway house here in town, and not one that I'm especially fond of. We're by maybe 30 minutes before his curfew and tell the onsite manager to have the goober call me when he returns. Goober calls me....90 minutes after his curfew. I'll admit on this one that it might have been a miscommunication. But I'm still quizzing him on where he was, what he was doing. He says he was at a motel. I query about what he was doing and he gets quiet, sounds embarrassed. When I press, he says he was with a female. Him I'm probably just gonna rip a new one and give some more community service.
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| ...Or I'll Huff and I'll Puff and I'll Blow the Door Down |
[20 May 2007|12:12am] |
Ok, so this one was a transfer, yet another one, that I got from the Regular Supervision folks. This character had never reported for any consistent period of time and, after his last apprehension, had been referred to my unit...of course. I mean, the number of times that he'd been into the Probation Office could be counted on one hand, and he'd been on Supervision for over 4 years. So I had gone by the home and spoke to his wife/girlfriend and she had agreed to all the conditions. She'd also demonstrated a "problem" while we were there. She said that she had gotten bitten by a Brown Recluse spider on her legs. Now, "bitten by a spider" is kind of a code phrase amongst LE now. When we hear that, we get very cautious and get out the surgical gloves and waterless hand cleaner. See, that phrase is something that felons, homeless people and others in that area are using to describe "Homeless Staph," or a staphylococcus infection. Very contagious and very nasty. So when we had gone by and she said that, I had zero interest in continuing the inspection of her home, but it wasn't something that I could deny the goober for. I just resolved to keep lots of alcohol cleanser on me when I was around the home.
So, I had talked to the public defender on a Thursday about the goober being released. Now, normally, when you talk to the PD about someone getting out of jail, it's gonna be at least 4 days before the paperwork gets done, out to the jail, and the goober is released. So it was about on Thursday of the next week when I checked the jail's web site to see if the goober had been released, as he hadn't reported in yet. Sure enough, he'd been released on Thursday of the week prior, the same day I spoke to the PD. So I get an Arrest & Hold into the system, to be placed into NCIC and request assistance from the special ops guys to pick the goober up. And, since I was out on Field Calls, I took out a piece of paper that I planned on putting on the door with orders to report immediately. The Absconder Check is one of those important things we do, so we can get "Absconder Time" on the goober. Well, Raquel and I were out in the Field, we go by and I knock on the door. I was halfway to sticking the note on the door when we both heard movement inside and saw someone look out at us through the blinds on the window. Now, at this point, we had to take it to the next level. If they hadn't done that, I could have left the note and gone. But with them having announced they're home, we have to stay and try to get them to open the door. Otherwise, if goober goes out and hurts someone while on the run, then it's on me. K? Now, we got another Field team over to us and we requested the city police to come. In the past, I have spoken ill of them due to the long wait. Not this time, we had 6 units on scene in about 15 minutes. A record without shots having been fired. Now, while we were waiting, we did carry on a conversation with the wife/girlfriend inside, who relayed that she was using the bathroom. She didn't sound happy to see me. But, alas, the door remained closed. PD is on scene and carrying on the conversation while I sit back and wait. It doesn't take too long before the door is opened up and "spider bite lady" comes out along with her sister. Remaining in the residence is, yep, my goober. He finally comes out, I have a brief conference with him, culminating in me placing him in cuffs. He's trying to say that he didn't have any probation and he was set loose. At this point, I'm thinking he has "splinters in the windmill of his mind" and that he's never going to get it. I finally tell him to shut it and go stand over next to another PPO while we go in and pillage the residence.
And we only did a half-hearted pillage. It was just too nasty inside for us to do much of anything else. But, we did find: 1) used crack pipe; 2) beer; 3) THC in a small dime bag; 4) drug paraphernalia consistent with heroin use; 5) realistic looking toy gun and a folding knife. All of it was confiscated to add to the profuse amount of violation data that I had already collected.
So we transport goober and he's still acting like a goober. Oh and the girlfriend/wife's sister? She went with the cops too, seems she had a traffic ticket (misdemeanor) warrant.
Course, now I've got to contact the Immigrations & Customs Enforcement folks. See, this goober is illegal as hell. How do I know this you ask? Could it be that one of the two listed Social Security Numbers for him in the system is registered a lady who is five years older than him? Maybe. Could it be that his second Social Security Number was given 26 years after the goober was born? Maybe. Could it be that his listed birthplace in the computer system is in another country? Maybe. Could be all three of them truth be told. So, now I've got to contact ICE and have them get paperwork ready to deport this stain on the American community. Especially since his Judge is one that is an idiot and doesn't like to send away those who have violated their Probation Orders multiple times.
More stories to follow, but in a different entry as they don't fit with the subject heading.
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| The Bathroom and You |
[17 May 2007|08:21pm] |
Most of this week's stories center upon the bathroom, as indicated by the title.
Goober #1 wasn't one of mine, although the PPO did try and foist him off on me. His PPO needs a UA on the goober and Cap'n Igor is called upon to render aid. Goober asserts he's ready and we go into the toilet, whereupon I give the goober the cup, the directions and step back to grab a surgical glove. There's a problem when I notice that goober is shaking. Usually that's a sign of fear, or drug use, or both. With this guy, per the conversation I had with the PPO afterwards, it's a mild form of palsy. But I digress. Guy's standing there and trying to piss into the cup. He can't go. Again, not a surprise. Sometimes that's an attempt by the goober to put off pissing cuz he's gonna be dirty. Goober requests I run the water, to which I agree, for a short period of time. Water runs for 15 seconds, nothing. So I'm about to give him the spiel about sitting in the lobby and goober looks over at me and says, "Can I rub it?" I'm pretty sure I stared at him for at least ten seconds before the frontal cortex kicked in and I said, quite brightly, "What?" while shaking my head in an attempt to clear out the flood of earwax I must've gotten in order to mishear that. He looks at me, and serious as can be, says "If I rub it, that might help me go." Grabbing the cup and slowly backing out of the bathroom, I suggest that he "just wait" as I'm not sure that the product of him "rubbing 'it'" would test in the cup.
Goober #2 was one of mine but wound up not making it very long due to a problem of driving without a license. Oh and he "played for the other team." Not an issue really, but it will help explain the situation when you complete the paragraph. See, on like his second UA, I'm having him piss in the cup. Now, I know I've mentioned, in the past, exactly the amount of joy that I get from watching other men piss into a cup. Effusive joy, yea verily. So this guy looks over at me as I'm preparing to observe the UA and says that he wishes he had my job. I look at him confused and say, "What?" He says, and I'll paraphrase here, that he wishes part of his job allowed him to go into the bathroom and watch other men whip out their equipment to piss into a cup. Y'know, that's just not amongst the top 10 things you want to hear whilst in the bathroom. Giving him a UA was ever after a joy.
Goober #3 was one of those disconcerting situations where he starts talking to his "equipment" while trying to coax urine out. I was wondering if he was going to start taking it to the next level wherein he threatened the equipment with consequences.
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