Thirty-two years was a long time to be on the police force, but retirement was now in sight for Josh Myers. Every month he had seen all the criminal activity one person should ever see in a whole lifetime.
And that was just with routine traffic stops.
The introduction of bodycams and squadcams made his job more interesting – not necessarily better or worse – but more interesting.
During that time, he had pulled over his share of drunks, belligerents, and speeders, but the residents he had the most fun with were politicians and their relatives. He made it a habit of getting to know who the local elected officials were because sooner or later he’d run into them.
Tonight was no different than the 6000 other nights he drove around the city. The second car he pulled over had run a red light.
“Evening, sir. Officer Myers, borough police department. Was there a reason why you ran the red light back there?”
“I didn’t run a red light.”
“Can I see your driver’s license and proof of registration please?”
“Do you know who I am?”
Officer Myers leaned into his shoulder microphone and said, “Dispatch, we have a Code 95 at my location. Repeat Code 95. Please send a tow as well.”
“10-4,” the dispatcher said.
“What? What are you doing?”
“Misterrrr Bennett,” he said as he shone his flashlight on the ID. “It appears you are experiencing memory loss and that’s a problem, especially if you’re driving. Therefore, I have instructed Dispatch to send the mobile memory care unit from Harmony House. They’re on their way along with a tow truck to take and store your vehicle while you’re at Harmony House.”
He held up a finger before Mr. Bennett could speak.
“Either that, sir, or you were trying to pull rank on me because of a relative. Either way, I’ve got it captured on video and audio, and let me tell you, it will not look good for your father for you to be pulling the ‘do you know who I am’ card. The election is a month away. Bad move, son, bad move.”
“You know I could have your badge for what you just said to me?”
Myers straightened up and stretched his back, then said, “You’re gonna go that route now. Hmm. No, Mr. Bennett, you cannot have my badge, nor would you want it. Because in order to have my badge, you’d actually have to work for a living. And I know for a fact you are living solely on your daddy’s reputation and under his roof. I pity you privileged kids, I really do. But anyhow, in precisely two hours, this great city will have my badge because I will be officially retired.”
Myers tossed the boy’s ID and insurance card into his lap, walked back to his car, turned off the flashers, and sped off.
I was confused with this one.