You Called Me A FA@@OT?

So we go to a radio call of a battery suspect in the projects. Or what passes for the projects in this area, Mar Vista Gardens. Long story short, we meet with a female black who tells us her friend (SEE girlfriend) and her got into an argument. The victim's shirt is torn, she's upset. And she tells us this suspect is on probation. We get all the information on the suspect, run her up on the computer and sure enough...she's got outstanding warrants. I proceed to call out a few more units and a supervisor. We formulate our plan, approach and order the suspect out. She is taken into custody without incident.

Now comes the good part. Everything is Code 4! Suspect is in custody, all the other officers can go back to their areas, we will take this "lady" to jail. My partner and I go back to the car and our suspect is detained in the back seat. I call my partner to the rear of the vehicle. As I am about to close the trunk, I say, "Well, we could violate her probation and all that, but why don't we just take her for the warrants! No reason to make it worse." My partner concurred. I closed the trunk.

I approach the rear passenger side of my vehicle. "Miss," I say, "Do you want to tell me what...

"FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU FUCKING FAGGOT ASS PUNK FAGGOT BITCH! I HEARD YOU TALKING SHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND THE CAR YOU THINK I'M STUPID I CAN'T HEAR YOUR FAGGOT ASS TALKIN' ABOUT ME THROUGH THE TRUNK YOU WANT TO TAKE ME TO JAIL VIOLATE MY PROBATION FUCK YOU DO IT THEN YOU PUNK AS BITCH!

"Ma'am, I have barely said two words to you...why don't you try to calm down."

"DON'T FUCKIN' TALK TO ME YOU UNDERCOVER FAGGOT! I SEE THAT RING ON YOUR FINGER! YOUR WIFE KNOW YOU A UNDERCOVER FAG!?! THAT YOU TAKE IT UP YOUR ASS? STOP TRYING TO TALK TO ME YOU PUNK ASS FAGGOT! YOU LIKE PEOPLE TO PACK YOUR FUDGE! I'M A BITCH AND I GOT A BIGGER DICK THAN YOU! I'LL PACK YOUR SHIT NIGGA! YOU AIN'T SHIT, YOU COPS AIN'T SHIT YOU AND NOTHIN' BUT A UNDERCOVER FAGGOT YOU PUNK ASS BITCH!"

"Ma'am, you don't hear me yelling at you. Why don't you calm down for a minute and I could tell you what's going on with -"

She cuts me off, sweating like a pig, sitting in the back of my police car, yelling and ranting loud enough for the whole fucking world to hear it...

"FUCK YOU MOTHAFUCKA YOU-AIN'T-SHIT AND I'LL PACK YOUR SHIT YOU UNDACOVA FAGGOT ASS PUNK BITCH YOU AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A BITCH DO ALL THE OTHER PUNK ASS COPS KNOW YOUSE A FAGGOT YOU BITCH. DOES YOUR MOMMA KNOW SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A BITCH YOU FAGGOT PUNK I'LL FUCK YOU UP! I'LL PACK YOUR FUDGE NIGGA YOU AIN'T SHIT!"

Now, allow me to pause here for a moment. I was trained by several OLD-timers. When I came on these guys already had 35 years and told me how it was, how it used to be, and don't put up with this shit. LAPD doesn't take shit from NOBODY. Standby for the ass-kicking lady! But they also understood that the reality now is, since RAMPART and since RODNEY-FUCKING-KING and since every other stupid thing that people are willing to believe, we have a Consent Decree and that means we have to think. We need to play it cool sometimes and be the police professionals we know ourselves to be.

But let's not kid ourselves....nothing would have been as much fun as to pull this idiot out of the car and get in some baton therapy. But I digress. I was, at that time, working with a probationary officer, a rookie. I have to set a good example so this person doesn't get herself fired someday.

So I told the lady, "Ma'am I am done talking to you."

But she went on and on for at least three more hours. All the way to the station, out of the car, into the station, sitting in the holding tank, back out to the car, all the way to Van Nuys Jail IN HEAVY TRAFFIC, all the way out of the car, into the Valley Jail, onto the bench outside the dispensary.

THREE HOURS OF THIS BITCH. I even recorded her on my cell phone. It was nuts. I really started to feel sorry for her because her life is FUCKED.

And after three hours of her trying to goad me into something stupid so she could hit the LAPD Use of Force lottery, I waited until about ten minutes before she got booked...

"Miss, you know why I haven't talked to you? Why I choose to ignore all the things you say?"

"CUZ, YOU AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A FAGGOT BITCH. DO ALL THESE JAIL PEOPLE KNOW YOU A FAG?"

"Shhh. Be quiet. You're in my house now. Show some respect for these people, even if you don't like me."

"FUCK YOU FAGGOT."

"Ma'am, the reason I don't talk to you is because it is obvious to me and everyone here that you are MENTALLY ILL. You obviously hate yourself and you're crazy so you don't know what to do. I have no reason to waste my time on such and unreasonable person."

"FUCK YOU I AIN'T CRAZY, YOU THE CRAZY ONE YOU UNDACOVA FAG!"

"Shutup. You don't understand the forces at work against you. You see, for you THIS is it. This right here is the rest of your life....getting locked up and going to jail. You're what? Twenty-five right now? I imagine that you keep going like this you'll be lucky if they don't scrape you off the street at thirty years old. You can pop off to me all day, but do that in the street and it will get you capped (Euphemism for getting shot). Good luck with your life because this is just the beginning of how screwed up it will get..."

"FUCK YOU! I AIN'T CRAZY. YOU AIN'T SHIT AND YOU AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A FAGGOT! FUCK YOU."

"Good luck to you. You're gonna need it."

And they say we don't earn our pay....hahaha. I love this job.