

(story by c.o.n.)

Pictured above is a case assignment card from the APD. In Texas, and I suspect many other places, the first 2 digits generally represent the last 2 digits of the year the statement is being taken.

So yes, the following story occurred in 2003 and since it’s such a rare occasion – the officer had never experienced it in his career until that moment – I felt compelled to tell it after I recently found the card hidden away in a box.

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About 2 months prior to the date of the incident, Moses (not the cat) had parted the waters between myself and my nearly year long relationship with a girl creature. I’m pretty sure it was mutual, honestly I can’t recall.

Anywhat, she calls me out of the blue one day asking to use my computer or printer, something electronic. Thought nothing of it, it had been 2 months after all.

And everything was cool when she arrived. Some small talk, then she started on her school work.

Then the phone rang …

It was a girl, someone with whom I’d developed a mutual interest. I politely stepped out of the living room and into another room. A few minutes into the conversation I hear incoherent, angry grumbling outside the door. So I walk around the corner, phone to my ear … bad idea.

She begins screaming at me asking about the individual on the phone, so I hang up. The second the phone drops, she starts droppin’ slaps and scratches across my face, neck and arms. No joke. I restrained her, never once hitting back, maneuvered her outside and shut the door.

I guess she didn’t like that. She walks over to my massive bedroom window and punches clean through it. \mm/ Fuckin’ metal!! And she was metal, short, but metal.

Some time passes, I believe the coast to be clear. It is. I open the front door, check out the damage, walk back inside.

A few minutes later, door still open, I turn around and a police officer is standing there, hand on his holstered gun.

I’m apparently bleeding from my right arm and neck.

He’s asks, “Are you alright? What’s going on here? Are you the one who called about the hit and run?”

Snickered a bit and said, “Um, no. But what a coincidence you should arrive. I just got beat up by my ex-girlfriend.”

He grins a bit at how random it all was, and I guess prioritizes my case over the hit and run. He tells me someone in a U-Haul backed out of my apartment complex’s driveway (it was a tiny place, like 8 units), whacked a car parallel parked across the street, tore a hole in a door and just kinda left. LoL.

He also informs me that although I’ve got observable injuries and he’s called forensics, he’s known of situations where the female involved will proceed to hit herself or scratch herself and claim defense. And that it’s generally the practice to side with the female.

I say, “that’s a good practice, as it’s generally dudes who beat up girls. But not in this case. I just don’t know how to prove it to you.”

“Well, we’ll take a statement and deal with that later.” So we begin.

*ring ring* … *ring ring* … *ring ring* … *weird machine noise indicating transition into VM*

I didn’t have a cell phone at the time but I did have a land line. Lol. With voicemail. The voicemail picked up, and I’m paraphrasing:

“I’m really sorry for what I’ve done. I didn’t mean to hit you and scratch you. And I’m very sorry about the window, tell me how much it costs and I’ll pay for it … ” + profuse apologies …

It was very sincere and I knew that.

The cop was flabbergasted. (<— such an awesome word; when I look at it and say it, I think of flaccid taffy. and you just did too :-D!!) “Wow. You are a lucky mofo (yes, he said this). I just happen to be standing right here when admittance of guilt occurred …” He laughs out loud a bit. He then plays back the message a few times in its entirety, writing it all down verbatim on that little tiny pocket-sized notebook they carry around.

He looks at me and says, “You’ll be okay. Even if she does anything, it’s not likely to have any repercussions for you.”

He tells me she could be charged with domestic assault as well as criminal mischief for the window.

I say to him, “She doesn’t need jail. No one needs jail. She apologized right away. I do not wish to pursue on either count.” And I never would.

So he hands me the card and says, “if you change your mind.”

Le fin.

.censored out of respect. otherwise it’s the incident number 03-xxxx; the officer’s name and badge number; the charges to be filed.

(.j.)