Despite my badge bunny protestations, I have to admit I've dated a cop. One cop. The only cop I've ever been involved with in any way, shape, or form. We both loved each other, and had one of us not done the jobs we do I like to think it would have worked out. I make a point not to work his district when he's on. Not because it ended badly, but because of what almost happened tonight.
It's been raining outside and he goes out on a traffic stop:
"9-2-paul-43, I'll be southbound route 404 with whiskey-tango-8-9-yankee. It's a blue Lexus and I'm on the left hand shoulder." Obviously I know his little quirks, the two important ones here being: he drives an unmarked car, and he never gives out vehicle descriptions on stops unless there's a problem. He's on the left hand shoulder of a major highway. It's wet out. He's in an unmarked car. This driver has given him some reason to be wary. This is a perfect storm scenario of a recurring nightmare I have.
I send backup, and turn up the side channel a notch figuring if something goes south I'll hear it there first. And it does-- *click click* "Move to your right!"
Later I find out this is where he almost gets clipped by a truck.
He clears the stop and heads back out to hunt. Less than five minutes later he pulls over another car on the same highway that has again stopped on the left hand shoulder. I've had enough.
To 92P43 from PD221: You're banned from stops on 404 for the remainder of the night. It'd be bad enough if it were someone else getting hit, I can't handle it being you. Go patrol the shopping center.
To PD221 from 92P43: Yes ma'am, understood.
At least he can still follow instructions.