Shaking In My Boots

“Oooh I’m so scared, I’m shaking in my boots.”  – An old saying to sarcastically tell someone their threats are not intimidating.  

After a long time and multiple attempts, I was finally promoted from Deputy Probation Officer to Senior Probation Officer.  To me, it was a big deal.  I was now the second in charge in a unit.  When the big boss, the Supervising Probation Officer, was not around, I was the man.  When you get promoted like that, you go to a different unit, so old friends and co workers can’t influence you or make decisions difficult for you.  I was sent to the South Bay.  

The South Bay Unit was made up mostly experienced officers, those who should have been promoted years ago but were passed on for complicated reasons.  Almost all of them had more experience than me, a lot more.  In fact, one helped train me when I was starting out.  They all liked me, and welcomed me, but there was undeniable tension and some bitterness.  I was the hot shot new Senior who wasn’t a senior at all by comparison.  I had to prove myself to get any respect.

One night we went to a house to look for a probationer with a warrant. If he was there, we’d take him to jail.  The end.  The big boss wasn’t there so I was in charge.  Jay, Charles, Ed, Lisa and I arrived at the house in our unmarked van.  It was very dark and cold. When we contact a house with a wanted person, we clear all the rooms, including the backyard.  Anyone found is directed to the main living room.  The ‘directive’ would be elevated to ‘ordered’ if there was resistance.  

Charles and I went into the backyard while the rest went inside.  It was hard to see, but there were at least four small sheds in the yard, all up against the fence, side to side, doors facing out.  We looked into each one.  The first three were empty.  The last one was not.  

Inside was a small, twin size bed. The shed was so small the bed touched three walls.  There was a shelf above with a TV on way too loud. On the bed was a giant shirtless man drinking Disaronno Amaretto right out of the bottle.  It’s funny what you remember in times like this.  I can still see that bottle and smell the amaretto thinking how terrible a drink that must have been. We asked for his ID a few times and he just looked at the TV, ignoring us.  

I reached over and shut off the TV.   

“What the fuck!” Said the giant as he hopped out of bed and stepped into my personal space, successfully intimidating.  He was still holding the bottle.

“I need an ID to see if you have a warrant, sir,” I said, taking a casual step back and creating distance.  I don’t think my voice cracked.  

“I’m not doing shit!” He screamed.  To make a deeper effect on his intimidation, he slammed the glass bottle in front of me.  The glass was so thick, I was surprised it shattered so easily.  Pieces of glass went flying everywhere hypnotizing Charles and I.  We were both so mesmerized by the glass we didn’t see him walk right past the both of us.  It was like a cartoon magician who slams a smoke bomb on the ground and disappears.  By the time we came to, he was walking quickly into the house, reaching into his pockets.  I got on the radio and told the others in the house that our magician was coming inside and to stop him.  

“10-9?”  They replied… That’s the code for repeat. Just say ‘what?’ – forget the code. 

They didn’t stop him, he walked right past them and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.  

Everyone looked at me.  “What are we gonna do now, boss man?”  No one said it, they didn’t have to, it was all over their faces.  There was a collective smirk.  

I got on one side of the bathroom door, pushed up against the frame.  I had Charles get on the other side.  Beside me I had Ed and Jay. Lisa sat with the remaining residents in the living room.  I was hoping they didn’t act up.  The bathroom giant was still inside yelling and threatening us, warning us not to come inside.  My plan was to push the door open, it wasn’t locked. I’d handle anything we see behind the door that could be life threatening.  My gun was out, in the low ready position.  I had Charles get his taser ready, for a non lethal threat.  I did my best to look confident, everyone was watching.  The smirks were getting wider.  “Welcome to the South Bay, hot shot.”  Again, not said, but heard.  

I took a moment to get myself together.  I was about to bust into a room and shoot someone. We would have a fraction of a second to decide if he was life threatening or not. I was scared, this was my responsibility.  My hand was shaking on my gun, but I did my best to hide it.  I also noticed in my boots, my feet were shaking. I was literally shaking in my boots. Somehow that broke the tension in my mind and I got a quick laugh.  I guess the saying is true.  I turned and pushed open the door.

Thankfully the giant was ready for us, and had his hands up.  I holstered my gun and told Charles to put away his taser.  He really wanted to use it, and was disappointed.  We put the giant in handcuffs and ran his name.  He had a warrant.  He was drunk (on straight amaretto?) and had some weed he was trying to flush. We transported him to jail, no Chili Mac, no Doritos.  

I learned that I earned some respect that night, we went to dinner after and debriefed. I was now a part of the South Bay Crew.