Mike Grimm and I were sitting in the Detective's office, trying to write reports. Our office was a converted 6'x9' closet. We each had a small desk against one wall. When the guy in back wanted out, the guy by the door had to get up and go out in the hall. But, since there is no cheese, I won't whine.
In Sam Bass the Chief's office next door, a salesman, Wilson Weasel, was jabbering so loud we couldn't work. I instinctively got up because I knew Mike was gonna do something about it. We wandered into Sam's office, who rolled his eyes, pleading for some relief. Sam was a true southern gentleman and he'd put up with a lot before he was rude to someone, no matter how obnoxious.
The Weasel was touting a revolutionary new raincoat, miracle fabric, lets the air through and keeps the rain out, you name it. He handed one to Mike to inspect. Mike looked at it and inquired, "There's no stitching around the sleeves. How's the sleeve gonna stay on during rough wear?"
"Glad you noticed, that," Weasel yammered, "that was my next point." He turned the raincoat inside out, showing the arm-to-coat seam. "This, my friend, is another unique feature of this coat. The sleeve is welded to the body with a laser gun. They're melted together. No amount of force can pull them apart.
Mike's a big guy with a grand sense of humor. And he loves to let the air out of the overinflated. "Welded, huh," he said.
"Certainly," Wilson said, " give it your best shot.
Mike clenched his big hands around the coat, gave a vicious jerk and the sleeve tore away from the body. He tossed it to the salesman, "You musta brought the wrong sample."
Wilson Weasel murmured something about having a pressing call he must make.then beat a hasty retreat. Mike winked at Sam and we went back to more mundane duties.
Another time, Shirley, my secretary came into my office and said, "There's a guy out there wants you to shoot him."
"Look like he needs it," I said.
"Probably," Shirley said, "he's a salesman."
Turned out it was the inventor of the Second Chance bullet resistant vest. His gimmick was to go to cop shops and demonstrate his product my having a cop shoot him in the chest. I declined this foolishness, so he offered to shoot himself as he had done at several other agencies. He showed us a purple chest to prove his point. We passed on that, too.
The vest was a new product, much lighter than those previous. It became police standard issue in many agencies. His unique advertising campaign read: Shoot the man who shot you and win a .44 magnum, or something along those lines. The idea being if you were wearing the vest the assailant's bullet wouldn't kill you so you'd have a chance to kill him. And the company did give you a reward if that happened.
There were some odd cats selling police equipment.
In Sam Bass the Chief's office next door, a salesman, Wilson Weasel, was jabbering so loud we couldn't work. I instinctively got up because I knew Mike was gonna do something about it. We wandered into Sam's office, who rolled his eyes, pleading for some relief. Sam was a true southern gentleman and he'd put up with a lot before he was rude to someone, no matter how obnoxious.
The Weasel was touting a revolutionary new raincoat, miracle fabric, lets the air through and keeps the rain out, you name it. He handed one to Mike to inspect. Mike looked at it and inquired, "There's no stitching around the sleeves. How's the sleeve gonna stay on during rough wear?"
"Glad you noticed, that," Weasel yammered, "that was my next point." He turned the raincoat inside out, showing the arm-to-coat seam. "This, my friend, is another unique feature of this coat. The sleeve is welded to the body with a laser gun. They're melted together. No amount of force can pull them apart.
Mike's a big guy with a grand sense of humor. And he loves to let the air out of the overinflated. "Welded, huh," he said.
"Certainly," Wilson said, " give it your best shot.
Mike clenched his big hands around the coat, gave a vicious jerk and the sleeve tore away from the body. He tossed it to the salesman, "You musta brought the wrong sample."
Wilson Weasel murmured something about having a pressing call he must make.then beat a hasty retreat. Mike winked at Sam and we went back to more mundane duties.
Another time, Shirley, my secretary came into my office and said, "There's a guy out there wants you to shoot him."
"Look like he needs it," I said.
"Probably," Shirley said, "he's a salesman."
Turned out it was the inventor of the Second Chance bullet resistant vest. His gimmick was to go to cop shops and demonstrate his product my having a cop shoot him in the chest. I declined this foolishness, so he offered to shoot himself as he had done at several other agencies. He showed us a purple chest to prove his point. We passed on that, too.
The vest was a new product, much lighter than those previous. It became police standard issue in many agencies. His unique advertising campaign read: Shoot the man who shot you and win a .44 magnum, or something along those lines. The idea being if you were wearing the vest the assailant's bullet wouldn't kill you so you'd have a chance to kill him. And the company did give you a reward if that happened.
There were some odd cats selling police equipment.
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