Jeepers, It’s The Cops!

I felt like I was in a 1940’s gangster flick:

Me: You’ll never catch me coppers! I ain’t coming out alive!

Cop: That’s not a gun sir.

Me: It’s a baseball bat!

Cop: It’s a tea cup.

Me: I’ll burn you!

Cop: The tea looks lukewarm.

Me: I might short out your radio. Huh? Ever think of that?

Cop: Get on the ground sir.

But seriously, the cops really did enter my house last Friday. The dramatization above was merely the figment of an over active imagination. The police at my door was an interaction of shock, surprise, and feeling rather silly. My wife and I were watching the British version of Being Human while sipping on some tea when the doorbell frantically rang. I opened the door and Albuquerque Police Department’s finest was standing off to the side in the shadows (the way they stand when they expect the door to burst open guns a blazing).

Freak Out!

This sums up my reaction. Or a special day in the park with a sack lunch. I'm not sure which.

The police officer steps into the light and I realize that it’s not a home invasion. He tells me that they received a call about someone vomiting blood at my residence and asks if his partner and him can come in. I invite them in. With all the vampire shows I watch, you figure I should have asked for some ID first. As my wife points out, they could have been home invaders dressed as the cops. Lesson learned. I’ll be asking for ID in the future.

So they turn out not be home invaders or vampires but really cops. They ask me if anyone else is home and I tell him, “My wife.” At which point my wife comes into the living room holding the dog. Keep in mind this is the dog that furiously barks at anyone who even thinks about walking down the sidewalk. Now that strangers are in the house, he is quaking in his mom’s arms. Yes, he is such a cute fuzzy fierce little warrior.

They ask my wife, “Are you vomiting blood?” She tells them no and then he asks to look through the rest of the house. Luckily enough, I decided to stop growing opium, freed the human trafficking victims, and took down the meth lab that morning. His partner, who seemed like a rookie, stood there awkwardly after checking the coat closet. Because you know, when someone vomits blood at my house, I put them in the coat closet. It keeps the room clean. After checking the house, they find no one (Though that would be freaky if they did). Embarrassed by the situation, they radio in the error talking in police code and leave us to our tea.

Seriously though, I didn’t mind what happened. If someone really was vomiting blood, I really would want them to come in and check it out. They were just doing their job and they didn’t break down the door or anything. The weird part is this is the second false alarm called to my house. The fire department came a month or two ago looking for a fire that wasn’t at my house. Although when someone rings the doorbell, I usually don’t answer it. Personally, I hate talking to door to door solicitors. Glad that I decided to answer it or the night would have been very different.  Though I should have offered them some tea. I can picture it now: the four of us sipping tea while watching a show about a vampire, werewolf, and ghost roommates.

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