SPOV
Today had been pure hell. This skip tracing and apprehension business was not all it was cracked up to be. Several times today alone I have thought about handing my perverted cousin this job back, including all of my paraphernalia; my handcuffs, stun gun, and the rest of the files he gave me. This job sucked! Then again, I could keep the handcuffs in case I needed to cuff Mr. Right to the bed in the event that I ever met him; but that was another story to be told on a different day.
The three skips I brought in earlier had all dirtied me in some way. The first one threw me into her flower bed, with the added humiliation of a hidden pile of dog crap, that was steaming fresh. The second thought a food fight would save him from being brought in. The fruit salad in my hair was definitely not a good look. The one I just took into the cop shop about an hour ago was the worst though. I ended up in the dumpster behind a low rent diner. When I finally climbed out, I had yesterday's blue plate special all over me; including little white squirming things in my hair that I pretended were rice, but I knew were actually maggots! Yuck!
The only reason I decided to keep going, just for today, was the fact that my bank account was near a zero balance …. again. So here I was, going after one last skip of the day. His name was Howard Francis Rogers and I was already getting icky feelings from his name alone. His file said he was five foot, seven inches tall, 189 pounds, brown hair and eyes; he didn't look bad on paper, except the fact that he was bonded out for rape and assault on a female he picked up at a bar. It was his third offense.
This creep would require me to have back up. While I drove to pick Lula up to help, I dialed Rangeman to see who was available to assist me. Junior was on the phones today and told me that help was on the way, he just didn't know exactly 'who' would be coming. I informed Junior that we would wait for our back up at the bonds office.
Lula and I parked at the curb in front of the office to sit until said help arrived. Lula told me about her new diet in the mean time. She seemed to think that an 'all crab cakes' diet would work. The fact that her 'all bacon' and 'all meat' diets didn't work before, had no effect on her decision to attempt another crazy diet. She was desperate to fit into this new dress she bought out of someone's trunk on Stark street last week. She wanted to wear it on a date with a new "potential piece of beefcake", her words, not mine.
I knew that new dress would more than likely fit her like her current attire, tightly. She was wearing a short bright yellow skirt and a deep purple tank top that hardly contained her 'assets'.
Thankfully the cavalry of the Rangeman variety showed up before Lula could get into the details of how she hoped said date would end. Whew!
I exited my POS car and walked up to the driver's side of the Rangeman SUV our assistants had arrived in. I was shocked to see that Tank was driving, I was not expecting him to be our help. Tank was six foot, six inches of solid built muscle; so needless to say I would not be complaining. It appeared that Vince had been roped into being Tank's back up, or maybe threatened into it.
I stuck my head in the window after Tank had lowered it so they could hear me when I spoke.
"Hey Big Guy, Vince, thanks for agreeing to help. This guy is not nice, he's been arrested three times for abuse, one attempted rape and one count of rape in the first degree. But with you guys here, I'm not worried. Y'all ready to get this show on the road?"
The only response I got from Tank was a sharp nod, but at least Vince remembered that I liked for them to use actual words.
"It's your show Bomber, we're ready if you are."
I smiled back at him as I answered, "Let's go boys".
Moving back toward my car, I slid back into it and pulled out onto the street. The guys took their place behind me to follow me to the skip's address on Crescent street. We parked two houses down from the address. The house looked like the typical middle class dwelling; clean windows, with a well kept yard. I was glad there were no freshly planted flowers and no evidence of a dog in residence.
As we began to walk up to the front porch I noticed a wire mesh cage sitting between two black iron chairs. There was a clicking sound coming from it. When I got close enough I realized that the cage was holding two large brownish red crabs. The right hand side of the cage had a rectangle shaped pan filled with water about four inches deep. 'What the ….' I thought to myself.
We took our positions in front of the door, me first, with Vince and Tank slightly behind me but well within view. Lula just stood off to my left. She took the time that we were walking up to the house to dig in her huge purse, trying to locate her gun. I was extremely relieved to hear her curse under her breath when she could not find it.
Unfortunately none of us noticed the third crab that had somehow escaped the cage and was wandering freely around the porch. After several minutes Lula was the first of us to see it. She shrieked out a shrill scream then started panicking.
"That looks like a crab. Who in their right mind would have a pet crab?"
"Lula calm down," I tried to soothe her. "It's only a crab. We've seen worse. How about that alligator or the Diggory's snake?"
"This crab is dead lunch meat. I already got a pot of water and butter ready and waiting for you sucker!" Lula threatened.
The crab started to inch it's way toward Lula. She jumped back trying to get away from it. Her high heel was not made to stand up to that type of quick movement, especially with the added stress from her weight. The heel snapped and Lula tumbled down onto all fours. The sudden movement caused her left breast to fall out of her tight tank top.
Tank and Vince were distracted by the sight of naked boob and were frozen in place gawking. The short distraction was enough for the crab to get a chance to snap at Tank's boot. Lula was still struggling to get back to her feet, her boob still swinging in the breeze.
While she was distracted and trying to right herself, the crab took the open opportunity to clamp down on her nipple and it looked like it wasn't going to let go any time soon.
"Shit, shit, shit! Get this thing off me!"
Tank took pity on her and pried the claw off of her breast, which was now oozing blood from the wound. I laughed to myself thinking, 'well, she always said she wanted to get her nipple pierced'. Meanwhile Tank dropped the escapee back into the cage with the other crabs.
Tank passed her a handkerchief from his pocket. She folded it up, using it as a temporary bandage, then tucked herself back into her top. She huffed back to my car and stayed there for the rest of the apprehension.
With the commotion going on outside on his front porch, our skip had wandered out to rubber-neck and just like the guys was mesmerized by the amount of boob on display. The guys easily had the skip cuffed and shackled in the rear of their SUV within minutes.
I followed the guys to the station. They escorted the bad guy to the booking area and secured him to the bench while I went to get the paperwork for him. Since I had already been there three times today, the officer at the desk knew not to mess around and got the body receipt for me post haste. I was glad too, I was way past ready for this day to be over. I still hadn't decided if I was quitting or not. All I knew at the moment was I needed my two favorite things, ice cream and a movie marathon to zone out.
The guys made sure I had my paperwork before they left to go back to Rangeman. I gave them both hugs and kisses to their cheeks as we parted ways.
I dropped Lula off at her place, then headed to my apartment for the rest of the evening. I was done for the day, finally. I pulled in to the parking lot and found the only spaces were in the back by the dumpsters, no shock there. I sighed after picking the one furthest away from the offensive smells.
The car shut off with no trouble so I trudged across the pavement to the back door of the building. I rode the elevator up to my floor, I was too tired to fight with the stairs. I unlocked the door and eased my way into my living space.
With the door locked back up, using both the knob and the deadbolt, as well as the chain, I threw my purse in the vicinity of the coffee table in front of my sofa, then dragged my feet down the hall to the bathroom. Maybe a nice hot bath would help me relax some before my movie marathon. I knew the hot soapy water would ease my aching muscles. I filled the tub with steaming water, added a handful of lavender bath salts, then stripped and eased myself into the heavenly water.
For nearly an hour I soaked, but made myself get out before I could fall asleep. There was no way I was going to become gossip fodder for the 'Burg by accidentally drowning in my bathtub. I would not give them the satisfaction.
Dressed in a comfortable pair of cotton pajamas, shorts and a tank top, I added my slippers and ambled to the kitchen to get the ice cream.
I selected the first movie, started it, and sat down on the sofa; open carton of ice cream and spoon in hand. I was ready to enjoy the rest of the night. I made sure before my bath that my cell phone was set to silent and my answering machine was picking up after the first ring. I would not be disturbed tonight.
After I moved one of the pillows to the end of the sofa, I leaned back against it to get comfortable. Thirty minutes into the movie my ice cream was gone, so I sat the empty container on the coffee table, along with the spoon. It could wait to be taken to the kitchen until later.
The first movie ended, so I started another. I only got about two thirds of the way through it before sleep finally claimed me. I stayed right there on the sofa and slept through the night.
I woke up the next morning with a crick in my neck and flashing message lights on both my cell phone and answering machine. The messages would have to wait for a few minutes, the call of nature was too urgent to deny.
After my morning routine, I decided the messages could be listened to, no point in putting it off.
The three messages on my answering machine were from my mother, grandmother, and Lula. My mother and grandma were just worried about me. The grapevine had informed them of my brush with nature. How they found out about the crab was beyond me. I would call them later to tell the the story and that I was fine.
The message from Lula said simply, "Call me." There was also a text message from her. 'My nipple hurts, but I have a plan.' I wondered what that was all about. Knowing Lula, there was no telling; but it was bound to be interesting at least. That thought scared me enough to not answer her text and just let it go; denial, denial, denial. That was my game and I was the queen.
Two days later I got another text from Lula, this one a picture message. It was a close up of her pierced nipple, professionally done I hoped. Dangling from the gold hoop was a crab charm.
I laughed out loud. Lula was unique, you could not argue that point. She took a bad situation with a minor injury and flipped it around to suit her. I guessed her new favorite animal was the crab. I wondered if she was still on her 'crab cakes' diet. Oh well, if that one didn't work, she would surely try another. Maybe that next one would be the one to melt the pounds away. It didn't matter to me, she would always be my friend, no matter her size.
Finis!