A Cop’s Dilemma

I was shaving while my loaded service revolver rested idly on the toilet seat. Instinct kicked in that something was wrong, seriously wrong.

Still, I was startled and I cut myself when she came in—not through the door but the window. I was growing wary of this girl but I had to admit to myself, reluctantly, that there was something impressive (and odd) about her.

Would I have to arrest her yet again? Now?! For christsakes, I wasn’t even officially on duty yet.

She offered me a silver spoon. What next? First breaking and entering and now attempted bribery.

“Officer, if I was born with one of these in my mouth, you wouldn’t always be taking me in. Life’s hard, you know?” she told me, fluttering the lids of those baby blues.

“Honey, don’t try that crap on me. I’ve got a job to do.”

She coolly ignored me. She picked up my gun.

“Now what? Are you gonna steal something?” I asked.

“I could,” she smirked. “But I cannot rob.”

She put down the revolver. I exhaled.

This girl was trouble. Always. I lost count of how many times I’d arrested her. Once I arrested her 15 times in a single day. Each time at a different “private club.”

She was wearing me down. And I was going broke, too. It was the suspensions without pay. I kept bailing her out (a costly proposition) and the Chief kept suspending me because of “conflict of interest.” But, truly, there was nothing between me and that girl except for pangs of guilt. Nobody else was looking out for her. Somebody had to.

And then there were the phone calls, at all hours. Sunday night, mostly, really late into Monday morning. And Tuesdays as well.

At some point, I’d have to decide who to protect: the girl or myself. A dilemma.

So anyway, I was hurting for money, very tired and almost at wit’s end when I saw her that morning. I wasn’t in the mood for it. I had my own problems.

We talked. She told me her story and I told her mine.

“Look, if it would make it any easier for you, I’ll cut down. Just one club a day,” she offered.

That worked for me. Less rushing across town.

“And why don’t you quit the police department?” she suggested.

Bingo! Now I’ve got myself a steady job. I’m a bouncer at the club where she works. With luck, maybe I can keep both of us out of trouble.