Police Officer Suicide Rate is Twice That of the General Population

So, I get sent to this very minor traffic accident. One driver is clearly impaired, but I don't smell alcohol. I run her, and she comes back with a no-bail drug warrant. I arrest her on the spot, tow her car, cuff her, and put her in the back seat of my squad car.

I note that while she's sitting back there, she's squirming and twisting and reaching around on her person - never a good sign. I ask her what's going on, and she says she trying to pull her skirt down. She is wearing a very short skirt, so I leave it alone.

I get to the jail and have her step out of my car. There's blood all over the seat. I ask her WTF is going on, and she says she's on her period. While she's standing there telling me this, bright red blood is running down her legs and dripping onto the floor. I tell her that even though I have no personal period experience, I have had multiple girlfriends and wives over the years, and I've seen period blood before, and this ain't it. I remind her that it's a felony to introduce drugs or paraphernalia into a jail, but she insists it's her period. Fine.

I take her inside and tell the jailers what's happening. They take her back to check her out, and come back about 15 minutes later. They hand me a complete loaded syringe and a glass meth pipe that has shattered. All of it is covered in blood and other glop. They tell me they retrieved these from my girl's vagina.

Now I have to take her to the ER to get her medically cleared for jail. After 3 hours, multiple X-rays, and fun conversations with Dr. St. Francis of Assisi and the ER nurses, I learn they have removed the remaining glass shards from her vagina and stopped the bleeding. She's good to go back to jail. And, oh, by the way, they discovered a cut-off plastic drinking straw in her anus. (For the uninitiated, these are commonly used for snorting whatever it is these low-lives snort so they can get through their day).

Once she is back at the jail and booked in, I have the distinct pleasure of putting all the offending items into evidence, cleaning the biohazard from my back seat, and generating more paperwork than the US Tax Code.

I get home 2 1/2 hours late. There is only one beer left in the fridge, and it's Sunday night so the liquor stores are closed.

And now you know why the title of this blog is a fact.