My Time In The Back Of A Police Car

3 Jul

Really?! You need to hear about my time in the back of a police car??

Well, actually, I wasn’t alone.

Hubby was with me…

Yesterday, a Facebook friend brought the whole escapade rushing back in my memory. She wrote, “In four words, answer this question: ‘We woke up in the back of a police car. What happened?’ ”

I wrote back, “I only wanted pizza!”

It was quite the experience. But if I MUST tell the story, I’d better start at the beginning…

It happened a few years ago (in the days before I carried an iPhone). Hubby and I wanted pizza. We decided to go to our favorite place, Grimaldi’s  – under the Brooklyn Bridge on the Brooklyn side of the river.

The Brooklyn Bridge is such a majestic structure.

Usually, we love to walk across the bridge.

But, this time – we were hungry before we even started out on our venture – so we decided to speed things up by taking the subway over the Manhattan Bridge, and then walking the shorter distance to the pizza joint.

Well, I’d better tell you right now that this was a BIG mistake. Turns out, the first subway stop in Brooklyn put us in an area that we didn’t really know.

I mean, we didn’t know this area at all.

We started to walk in the direction that we *thought* that Grimaldi’s would be in, but soon we realized that we were lost and clueless.

Finally, we saw a police car across the street.

Now, generally we respect the police.

They guard the city in times of trouble.

I always like to watch the mounted police and their horses in the city.

Sometimes, the police gather and laugh and act almost like normal people.

And they pose nicely with tourists.

But then again, you never know…

Hubby approached the police car with a bit of caution. I watched him lean over and speak to them through their window. I couldn’t really hear what he was saying, but I could see him gesturing.

I knew that he was hungry.

I only hoped that he wasn’t getting too Italian (i.e. potentially loud and overly-gesturing) the way he just might be when he gets overly-hungry.

I watched with just a little bit of trepidation.

Eventually, Hubby turned to me, and at the same time the passenger cop motioned for me to advance over to the police car. He said sternly, “Get in the back.”

We got in the back.

As soon as the door shut behind us, I noticed that there were no locks on the doors. The door locked automatically and we couldn’t get out if we tried. There was a metal screen between us in the back seat and the policemen in the front seat.

We were locked in the back of the police car!

Hubby tried to explain.

“They said, go left, then go right, then go left again…”

The passenger cop interrupted, “It got too complicated. We’ll drive you to Grimaldi’s.”

And off we went.

Hubby and I sat back and grinned at each other. This was kind of cool!

I leaned forward a bit, mustered up my nerve, and said meekly, “I *almost* want to ask you to put on your siren.”

The driving cop said, “You do, do you?” and he FLIPPED ON HIS SIREN!

We quickly arrived at Grimaldi’s Pizzeria in that police car, with its siren wailing for part of the journey. A couple of waiters were standing outside having a smoke, and they watched as the policeman got out, opened the back door for us, and we thanked them and entered the restaurant.

What an entrance.

What a couple of great cops.

And, that was my experience in the back of a police car.

Like I said, I only wanted pizza!

When our waiter brought us our check, he quipped, ‘Do you want me to call the cops for you?”.

You just gotta go to Grimaldi’s. Not only do they have the best pizza in New York City, but the waiters are funny and the neighborhood cops are the greatest!

If you go, take this map:

Or, hope that you run into a couple of friendly, Brooklyn policemen.

Tell them you want directions to Grimaldi’s.

Then see what happens.

xoxo,

SAllan

Advertisements

6 Responses to “My Time In The Back Of A Police Car”

  1. Carol July 3, 2011 at 1:41 pm #

    Great story. Love your blog.

    • sallanscorner July 3, 2011 at 5:05 pm #

      Thanks Carol – glad that you like! Thank you for the inspiration for today’s blog!

  2. cturtle July 3, 2011 at 6:39 pm #

    you know i could tell some stories about you sherrie, but that is by far one of the BEST! and PLEASE take me to GRIMALDI’S next time we’re there!

  3. Paul Chepikian July 6, 2012 at 7:32 am #

    What a great tale! Had me worried there for a bit! I’ve been living in Los Angeles since 1979. What do I miss most about the East Coast? The pizza of course. I grew up in Jersey. One can take the boy outta’ Jersey but you can’t take Jersey outta’ the boy.

    If I may, I’d like to share a quick story. What is it about cops and pizza? I worked security in a Paterson, New Jersey hospital. Rough part of town if you know Paterson. A cop came in to the ER, a regular. It was an unusually quiet night. We ordered two pizzas for the ER. I had my lunch break coming up so I said I’d pick it up. I hear my name, turn around and the cop has tossed his keys in the air. I catch them and he’s insisting I use his car, you know, the one with the lights and sirens to go pick up the pizza. I think he’s joking until I realize, oh no, he’s dead serious. He tells me he wants his pizza as hot as possible and to use the lights and sirens coming back. Welcome to the world of cops! And no, to answer the question on your mind, I did not use his car. I drove my 1972 Comet. Yup! It was indeed a chick magnet 🙂

    • sallanscorner July 7, 2012 at 4:08 pm #

      Thanks Paul for your story – that’s a great one!! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: