WHAT'S MORE FUN THAN DATING A COP...NOT MUCH

Ron" the cop" and I met when he pulled over my car pool buddy for speeding. The car was full of nice young ladies and he perused the goods instead of writing up the driver. I was working at the bank at the time so we were all in uniform. He recognized one of the passengers and let us go with a warning. I thought that would be the last of that.


A few days later, the girl he had recognized let me know that Ron had called and was interested in asking me out. I was tween fellows and said yes so we set up a date for Saturday. When he came to pick me up, I was a tad put off. He was totally handsome in his uniform but out of the uniform and his cute hat was a really bald guy.

I did not recognize him at first but he made a joke about his needing to put the cap on again so I would know who he was and I laughed and got comfortable with him. Today, I actually prefer bald men, especially those with a fringe around the ears . It is easier to read their minds with the hair gone. Ron was my first but not last bald date.


We went out for dinner and dancing and I soon forgot his shiny pate. He was fun and I had fun. The cool thing about dating a cop is that they are of a group of people that it is fun to ask,"How did your day go." These people have often wild stories to tell on a daily basis and you really look forward to how they answer such an innocent question. I am not alone. Just look at all the cop shows on TV.


Ron regaled me with stories about drunks, chasing perps down alleys on foot, and stupid excuses people come up with for why they were speeding. Sometimes he showed up with bruises and cut lip from being punched by those who resisted arrest. He said drunk women were the most dangerous to arrest. He had the purple shins to prove it.


Ron was a self deprecating fellow which makes for good story telling. Most fellows would leave out the "blown out pants" resulting from climbing over a fence, but Ron never left out the fun details. I am not sure today whether I really liked him or just adored his stories. You know how I like stories.


Ron did have a slightly dark side and that was what killed us. He would often drive by my house around 11:00 PM and blare out on the bull horn, "Lights out Patti." Now wouldn't he have felt bad if I had been entertaining some other fellow when he ordered the "lights out"? It did kind of embarrass me. I took serious ribbing from the other tenants in the building. Also got some complaints about that yahoo with the bull horn.


Then there were the times he would pull me over with flashing lights to ask me where I wanted to have dinner the next night. At first I thought it was cute but then it got embarrassing. Once the lights flashed behind me about a mile from my home so I kept on driving till I got to my driveway, ignoring Ron. Oops, it wasn't Ron but a cop I did not know. It seems I had "slid through" a stop sign. When I told him why I had ignored him, he gave me a warning and I am pretty sure Ron got one also.

Not my baby nor picture but her exact image. These were amazing, trouble free little cars. I LOVED HER.

Then one day my little Nash Metropolitan convertible was stolen. These were really cute small cars, pretty much the size of VW bugs. I had been grocery shopping and when I came out, my little years worn, pint sized car was gone. Oh yes, I had left the keys in it but in those days, we seldom locked our doors. Besides, who on earth would steal such a ratty little car? I was heart broken for she was not much but she had been my first new car and had been mine for nine years.

I called the police and almost before I could hang up, Ron pulled up in his patrol car. I told him what had happened and he gave me a stern lecture on leaving my keys in my car. He promised to personally look for my car and I arranged for a friend to drive me home. He told me not to worry and I had faith in him.

Twenty terrifyingly frantic minutes after I got home, Ron called to say he had found my car about two blocks from the grocery store with no damage. Of course that made him my hero till I found out from one of his buddies that Ron had actually "stolen" and recovered my car himself to bolster that "hero" image.

If he had confessed to his prank, perhaps I could have laughed then as I do today when I think of that big cop getting into my tiny little car and driving off. At the time, I just felt he had gone too far and I called it quits. Also there was the dreaded cover up as he continued trying to pull it off as "real". As a nation, we pretty much will forgive bad behavior if a "cover up" is not involved. A cover up is our national "straw." Sorry.... bye Ron.


A wonderful service Ron did for me was that he put to sleep those nagging child hood fears I had of policemen. I learned the men in blue were not really out to terrify small children. They were often just nice, fun, ordinary people who carried big guns. They eat, breathe, do their job and are capable of doing stupid things, just like us. That was a relief. Thanks Ron.