Taser Taser

About midway through my career with the Probation Department, we were introduced to tasers.  It was a great tool to gain compliance, and didn’t cause any long term, real damage.  When we went through the training, we all got a dose; we tased ourselves.  It is a very crippling feeling, it locks the muscles, and it really HURTS.

As time went on with the PRO (Post Release Offender) unit, we were getting traction.  The action we were seeing was getting attention so a lot of officers wanted to make the transition to our unit.  Our boss got to pick and choose.

“I got this great young kid.  He’s about 6’6”, 260 pounds and does CrossFit (CrossFit … the new karate).” Said the boss.

He was talking about Eric.  Eric was a young officer eager to rid the city of crime, just like Batman.  He was a good officer, made sure he did everything right and didn’t mind working all the time.  As a result, he got some of the more difficult cases that needed extra attention.  He got all the action he wanted.

One night he was looking for one of his wanted PROs, so I went along with him.  Due to the violent history of our PRO, we should have recruited a few more officers, but Eric didn’t think he would be home, so we went short.

On the approach to the house, we saw our target behind the steel screen door.  This wasn’t a wooden door like the one at Forrest Gump’s house.  It was solid steel with a steel frame bolted to the outer wall.  Complete with dead bolt and steel handle. There was no way we could get in, and he could see us.  He looked shocked and started to pace around the room he was in.

“No way, no way I’m going back to prison, no way,” he said, pacing back and forth.  We could see he had a sheathed knife tucked into his pants at the small of his back.

“Open the door, Mike,” ordered Eric.

He kept pacing.  The door opened directly into the kitchen.  To the immediate left, there was another door, I assumed leading into the living room. Eric was using his best counseling skills to get him to open the screen door.  The tension was rising quickly.  Normally we’d have someone go to the back and find a way in, but we didn’t have enough officers. We couldn’t leave because he had a knife, and seemed very unstable.

Finally Eric got him to click the deadbolt to open.

The two of us flooded into the kitchen, ignoring the mystery door to the left.  Mike backed up a few steps just out of our reach, clearly agitated and high as a kite, “no way I’m going back man, I don’t care.”

Eric continued to try to talk him down, as Mike walked in a tight circle.  The stress was getting higher and I was getting anxious.  Mike was dangerous, had a knife, and we were in the kitchen; there were knives everywhere.  He was clearly a threat to himself and us, but because he didn’t have the knife in his hand, lethal force was not appropriate. I was a step or two ahead of Eric, closer to Mike.  I had enough, and started to lunge and Mike.  My plan was to use my best Judo Chop, take him down, and put him in handcuffs. I took my first step and heard the unmistakable screech of the taser.  I had flashbacks of our training, and in fear of reuniting with the pain once felt from the taser barbs, I froze.

“Taser! Taser!” Announced Eric.

Hmmm, I forgot about the taser.  Good work young Eric, I thought.

The room lit up instantly from the electric taser.  The two green laser dots were right were they were supposed to be, just above and below Mike’s belt line.  Mike must have been through the same training I went through because he froze just like I did.  He put his hands up as directed, and we put him in handcuffs.

“Nope,” said Mike.

We removed the knife from the small of his back and escorted him out.   As we got to the exit, I looked into the mystery door that we carelessly blew past when we entered.  I was right, it led into the living room.  Inside there were five guests, all sitting on old dusty couches and chairs, playing video games.  The blue light from the TV illuminating the room, throwing shadows everywhere.  The coffee table in the center had a three foot bong, and there was a fog of smoke.  They were all awkwardly staring at the TV, acting like they didn’t hear or see anything.  Like when you see someone at the grocery store you kind of know but don’t want to say hi, so you look straight ahead and pretend you don’t see them.

Eric looked in, thew up one of his giant CrossFit hands and in his most officer friendly, Captain America voice, announced, “Sorry to bother you folks, have a nice evening!”

They all looked at each other, jaws open. After a few seconds they quietly refocused on the video game, like nothing happened.