Driving back from Western Mass after a concert, this yahoo in a BMW gets right on our tail. And I mean right on our tail. He was so close that when I turned around all I could see was hood. I'm pretty sure he could smell my perfume from where he was. The guy starts weaving from side to side, getting ever closer to the car when my other half locks up the brakes and the BMW slides to the left, nearly making contact with our back bumper. Then this clown decides to try to pass us in the breakdown lane while moving towards the side of our car, basically trying to shove us into oncoming traffic.
Once our exit comes up, my other half hits the gas, full tilt around the exit that is basically a U-turn and pins it. We're going at least 80 on a residential road and somehow the BMW is still with us. At this point, I'm freaking out because this guy is obviously following us and manages to land on our bumper once again the moment we have to slow down for traffic.
My bright idea? Well, I'll call the state police! They'll help! So I dutifully dial 911 and speak to a trooper, telling him what route we're on and what mile marker we just passed. The trooper informs me that he is going to transfer us to the local police for my town so that they can intercept this genius who has now just tried to shove us off the road for a second time. I wait for the call to transfer and speak to the dispatch officer in my town. I tell him where I am and he starts to "hmm" and "umm".
"Well, you're technically in the village of Baldwinville. You would be better calling the Templeton police."
So I figure, ok fine. I'll call Templeton. I call the state police back and I say that the Winchendon police have told me I should talk to the Templeton police. But by this time I realize we have crossed the town line into Winchendon and ask for the Winchendon police again. I explain that this punk in the BMW is still following us, still riding our ass, and now has his high beams on while flashing a bright blue flashlight at us from inside his car.
What do the fine, brave enforcers of our town's laws tell us to do? "Pull into the police station. You'll be safe there."
At that point I hand the phone to my already fuming driver. He starts asking this brilliant dispatcher what on earth this solution could possibly do for us in light of the fact that the BMW has now tried to KILL US TWICE. For this, the cop has no answer except to say that all the officers on duty are currently "out on a fight". This incenses him further and he starts to swear at the police officer (not such a good idea by the way) and asks him if he's retarded (another not so great idea). The officer tells him the only way he can help us is if we can get the license plate number on the BMW.
Fine. So this car is obviously following us and there's no way we're pulling into our driveway and letting this jackass know where we live so we pull into the gas station on the corner of my street and get out, trying to see what the car's license plate is. Unfortunately neither of us can see it and my other half is back on the phone with the police, letting them know that the car has now turned onto my street with us and wants to know if they can send a cruiser for "when this kid gets his ass kicked".
The dispatcher continues to tell us there's nothing they can do for us unless we have the license plate so we hop back into the car and speed down our street to catch up to the BMW which has since turned into the parking lot of the local school. We creep around the school building, James Bond style, and watch this kid get out of his car. With about 3 of his friends. Being that we're outnumbered, we decide to try the police yet one more time.
For the final time, the police suggest that we try to get the license plate number.
Dispatcher: Sir, can you get close enough to the car to see the license plate?
BF: Um, they're parked in a deserted parking lot with like 4 of them and 2 of us. You want me to roll up on them and get their license plate? What the hell kind of police academy did you graduate from?
Dispatcher: Sir, we can send a cruiser out in about 15 minutes if you can stay there and box him in.
BF: You want me to sit here all night, parked across the exit until you d*ckheads can send a car? Because we're not going home so this kid can come to my house and f*ck up my car. I should have locked up my brakes in front of the police station and let the kid hit me right there."
Long story short, the cops did zero. So what did we do? Stormed into the police station ready to do battle. While my other half wound up, getting ready to rip the dispatcher apart, I stepped in front of him and did my best Linda Blair impression, pounding on the counter, spit flying everywhere while I loudly informed him that we would be camping out in the station until he got off his ass and checked out this kid's car.
After sitting in the station, listening to the kid who caused the fight that took the entire police force to break up yell and cry like a 4 year old girl in lockup for 45 minutes, the dispatcher finally hopped in a cruiser to check out our complaint. He comes back after 10 minutes, laughing and shaking his head. Immediately we know that this is not going to end the way we hoped.
Dispatcher: Yeah. So I know this kid and um, he said he was out getting rims for his car. He even showed me the rims (BF: I don't give a f*ck if he showed you the rims a$$hole.). So it was just a coincidence he was following you. And uh, he says you were the one driving like an A-hole (his word, not mine). But I know this kid, I'm going to court with him on Monday and he's going to lose his license anyway because he drives like an idiot. So yeah."
Great. Of course he knows the kid. And of course the fact that the kid tried to KILL US makes no difference because he showed this yokel his RIMS THAT HE BOUGHT! I'm pissed but I can see that my other half is ready to boil over. We get in the car and there is steam pouring out of his ears as he jams the car in gear, backs out of his parking space next to a cruiser, and...
Peels out in front of the police station.
We don't make it more than 100 feet before we see blue lights behind us. They can't send a cruiser out to catch the kid who damned near caused our deaths but they sure as hell can jump in their car pretty damned fast to give us a $200 TICKET!!!!!
You should document the whole thing (you just did)and file a complaint.
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't feel right that this officer, because "he knows" the youth didn't do a damn thing about it. That's mixing his personal feelings with his profession and this is a huge issue.
I think you should get into more of these. They are good writing fodder...
ReplyDeleteYa that sounds just about right for a small town PD, a bunch of wanna be, think there shit don't stink... can't get a job on a city PD... so don't hold it against all cops.. (should give away who wrote this)
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