We all know it happens right? Who hasnât thought of blowing a cop to get out of a ticket? I have a few friends in Law Enforcement and I was thinking of establishing some âpreferentialâ treatment prior to that infraction if possible.
So when I broached the subject with my friends I got only smiles and that far off look people get when they are reminded of a great sexual encounter. Instead of answers I got a âride-alongâ to find out just what it would be like.
If youâve never sat in a police cruiser of any kind the first thing you notice is that there are guns, radios, switches and knobs all over the place. The console in between the front seats makes it almost impossible to make contact with the person in the other seat. Almost impossible.
I figured that the first thing is to select a good parking spot. Parking in a dark alley draws suspicion immediately it doesnât matter if youâre a cop or not. I liked the thought of being behind the billboard like in the old movies but alas, most billboards are too high for that now.
Then it occurred to me â every cop knows a place where they hide to catch speeders. That would be the place â you could even leave the radar on for thrills and to make it appear more like youâre working. Of course when I mentioned this to my âescortâ the wicked smile returned. Yes, they know the optimum place on their âbeatâ â I neednât have worried.
There are some definite necessary clothing choices. A skirt or dress is a necessity. Unless you donât want anything out of this little âbrush with the lawâ. But I chose my short plaid âCatholic school girlâ skirt and no panties to save time. Under my white shirt was a push-up bra that fastened in the front.
As my 10-86 (the radio code for a ride-along in my part of the world) progressed it became apparent that not only is location important â but so is timing. We called in that we were going to conduct some âArea Familiarizationâ which I found meant that we were going to be off the beaten track and werenât going to be able to respond as fast. The dispatcher seemed to take it as gospel. But I wondered wouldnât the Police Dispatchers have caught on by now? I got yet another smile and later earned the right to sit in dispatch for a few hours â but thatâs another storyâŠ
We pulled into a spot behind some bushes and the vehicle (they donât call them âcarsâ â I guess itâs an insult) was almost completely out of view.
Here is where the difficulties began. First there is a pretty big space between those seats and the center console definitely needs to be avoided. On that console are the controls for the lights, sirens and some other things that I was positive would draw unwanted attention to us. Setting off the siren right as the he shoots his load into the back of my throat also might be a little embarrassing. Or make some speeder come to Jesus â one of the two.
Then there was the belt. When they called it a âutility beltâ I automatically had visions of Batman in that tight spandex coming to my rescue. But on this belt they carry more equipment than most women carry in their purses. Of course there is their side-arm, a couple of extra magazines full of ammunition, handcuffs (my favorite) and quite a few things I neither knew the name of nor the use for. Most officers also wear a Vest â Kevlar body armor. For those that wear theirs on the outside of their shirts there is also a cover with pockets â reminiscent of a fishermanâs vest. All of the âgearâ is enough to make anyone take pause â even the most persistent woman in search of a cock to suck.