My Most Embarrassing Night As An Officer Because Of Taco Bell!

This happened to me in the late nineties and was at the time an extremely embarrassing experience. So hey, let's share!

Work had been stressing me out and I just wasn't sleeping with a damn that week. Not that it's an excuse, but I'm painting the picture and giving some context. I got off work at noon on Saturday. Being a single parent I had a seven-year-old that had spent two days with my parents I was so busy. Right after work, I went to pick up my son and we went for lunch. Back then I had an affinity for quick and easy lunches so we picked up the mighty, Taco Bell. I had two burritos and four tacos. I bought extra to throw in the microwave before work because my plan was to stay awake until seven and then take my son to my folks' house for the night. One more night before my weekend began was all I could think of that day.

At the time I worked in a small county jail. I went to work that night, on about two hours of sleep in the past two days. It was, as you can imagine, miserable. By the time things slowed down, after the study string of drunk in public and DUI arrests were taken care of, I hadn't had a break for several hours. I went to get a cup of coffee and see what else was going on in the jail. Standing in the kitchen, I went through the first cup pretty fast and started on the second one. My partner convinced me to go have a cigarette with him in the breakroom.

Sitting back there, listening to him rag on the job, the number of people getting arrested, and how stupid they all acted, at least gave me something to keep me awake. I finished my second cup of coffee and opted for a Coca-Cola afterward as something cold sounded good. We went and did cell checks, a standard thing in jails, and went back to the breakroom. It had really slowed down quite a bit in the past couple of hours and we were finally able to breathe and enjoy some downtime. I think that was when it hit me.

I told Tom to cover for me because I was going to be 10-6, which was code for busy unless it's critical. I ran down the corridor, down another corridor, and into the bathroom, barely getting it to shut with my foot as I thrust my pants down around my ankles by the duty belt.

"Woo, I made it," I thought to myself.

While I was sitting there I reached down and undid my belt keepers, releasing my duty belt from my pants. I set the duty belt up in the sink and was there for ten minutes as the taco bell, coffee, and cigarette mix ran out of me most painfully. We've all been there right. You're sitting there, doing your business, not comfortable doing it, it's so loud. The amount of activity leaves your exit a bit sore. Alright, if it's just me, so be it.

After ten minutes of the longest, most disgusting movement of my twenty-seven years, I was finally done. I got up, flushed one last time, praying the hot sauce effect on my tissues down there would wear off, and started putting myself back together. Anybody that has ever worn a duty belt, be it corrections, patrol, security or the military knows that it takes a minute to get it back on, all the fasteners put back together, and check your uniform.

It was getting close to five o'clock in the morning and I had to run down to the city police station. All the reports for the jail were processed through a shared records division between city and county patrol, the jail, and the courthouse. I walked into the records area and one of the girls grabbed me by the shoulder and rushed me into a corner. Dawn was her name.

Dawn: Hey kiddo, check your radio, make sure it's on the right channel.

Me: Why?

Dawn: (Chuckling and face red) You weren't feeling really well a while ago, I'm guessing. (She broke out laughing at this point).

As tired as I was it took me a minute longer than normal to put two and two together.

Me: No, no, No!

Dawn: Ask L.T. (Referring to the on-duty lieutenant)

Me: Jesus Christ!

I stormed out of the records room and went back up to the jail realizing that all that noise from taco bell rolling out of my intestines at warp speed had been broadcast over the police frequency, as my radio dial had moved when I abruptly took down my pants. Needless to say, I didn't talk to anyone from work for the next three days while I was off.