A Sweet and Sticky Assault
Everyone knows cops and donuts go hand in hand. Just for the fun of it I looked into the history of this tag team match. Most agree it became common for the two to be linked due to donut shops being the place to buy coffee and a sweet snack early in the morning. This was before Circle K and 7-Eleven appeared on every corner. Donut shops also have a history of allowing uniformed police officers inside before hours to fill up on coffee while the fresh baked wonders are being prepared.
For me donuts have a slightly different significance. While working the day shift, I was dispatched to our local 24-hour convenience store for a female being disorderly. The female, Mrs. C, was upset because the fresh donut case was filled with stale donuts. When I arrived she was yelling at the clerk and trying to get her to hold and feel a hard donut. The clerk was looking at me with huge eyes and a “what the hell” expression.
I had dealt with Mrs. C before. She is seventy-two years old and sharp as a tack. Mrs. C is not very fond of me. Her dislike started the first time I encountered her and I refused to jump to her tune.
Standing in the store that morning, I was trying to decide how best to handle a disorderly grandma. I thought if I could get her outside, I could deescalate the situation. I asked quite nicely.
Mrs. C’s face got red and she used the donut to point in my direction while yelling angrily, “I come here every morning for fresh donuts. This one is hard as a rock and it’s the only jelly filled left. You’re a cop, you know your donuts. Here, you see how stale it is.”
I was unceremoniously handed the donut. It was a natural reflex and I took it using my gun hand, which was not my brightest move. The donut was hard and sticky. I again asked Mrs. C to step outside. I backed slightly away and opened the door.
I thought she was walking towards me but she stopped at the donut case, reached her hand inside and grabbed another pastry. The ultra-stiff projectile flew through the air and hit the clerk in the face. Mrs. C was yelling as she again took aim, “This is the only place in town that advertises fresh donuts. Here have another stale one.” This donut missed the clerk by about an inch.
I still had the jelly filled pastry in my right hand and I let it fall to the floor. My fingers were sticky so I used my left hand to pull out my handcuffs. Mrs. C saw my cuffs and backed away after grabbing two more gummy missiles. She let them fly. I was peppered with a chocolate frosted and a cinnamon twist.
I grabbed Mrs. C’s right arm, pulling it behind her and getting the cuff on her wrist. Before I could grab her left hand my face was smeared with dark frosting.
So there I was, covered in donuts and arresting a seventy two year old woman for assaulting an officer and a store clerk. Whether it was to my benefit or detriment, the store had video of the entire encounter. The clerk decided not to press charges so I was left to appear in court and explain my assault by donut all alone. How the judge managed to keep a straight face while reading the official complaint was beyond me. My entire department decided they had nothing better to do than arrive in court to support me. I had my own cheering, laughing and comedic section in the third row. Mrs. C had her six children and fourteen grandchildren in rows four, five, and six.
The charges against her were pled to simple assault and she was given probation and 30 hours community work service. We greet each other cordially when passing on the street. Mrs. C has been banned from the store and their donuts for life. Over the next six months a box of donuts mysteriously appeared on my desk about once a week. I would move them to the break room and they would just as mysteriously disappear.
I don’t get any more donut jokes in Small Town. I am the donut joke. Life as a cop can be dangerous, exhausting and humiliating. Have I mentioned that I hate donuts?
Until next time,
Detective Ivy signing off
Next Small Town post: Guns, Pink Handcuffs and Alcohol