Brief Entrapments

You know how in movies when someone can't pay their check at a restaurant, how the manager makes them wash dishes to pay off the bill? Well, I tried that at Oakland Bar & Grill and they called the cops. However, I couldn't pay to get out of jail, so the cops made me a temporary policeman to pay them back for my stay. Here's what happened.

My first assignment was to hang out by a car impound lot and bust people trying to steal their vehicles back. I stood next to a nearby bus stop and tried my best to look nonchalant. This involved updating some services on my phone and apologizing to several bus drivers for not needing a ride anywhere. However, it wasn't long before a middle-aged guy came along, looking very suspicious.

The man threw his jacket over the razor wire and scaled the fence. I moved closer to the entrance just in time to see the head of a crowbar appear between the doors of the gate as he pried it open from the inside. I jumped up against a wall to hide. After several tense moments, an engine roared to life from inside and the man sped away in a flashy sports car. I used this opportunity to retrieve my own car, which had been towed to that same lot the previous week. However, a couple more people tried the same thing later that night and I nabbed them. The cops, satisfied that I could handle the basics, gave me a new assignment.

The cops put me undercover at a Renaissance fair. They had a hunch that the week-long event was really a front for a big drug smuggling operation, so they got me a job there selling meats on sticks. I was given tights to help me fit in with the dress code, but I still wore socks so that I would have a place to put a little gun that I had bought online. It wasn't long before a guy in a cape came along, looking very suspicious.

The man asked me if I wanted to buy, sell, or trade something for drugs. I didn't want to seem too eager for any transaction so I asked him about his family and where he grew up, getting in close. He asked me about my family and I opened up about some stuff I don't want to go into here, but I ended up quitting my beloved stick meat job at the fair to go find myself. Several weeks later the cops caught up with me and told me that I was lucky - the guy in the cape was also undercover, paying them back for stealing impounded cars. I would like to tell you it was the same guy from before, but I'm 99% sure it wasn't. Anyway, I came back to the city and the cops told me they had one more job for me to do before they would forgive my debt.

My last assignment was to take down a fellow cop that was accepting bribes from a dangerous criminal syndicate known as the "Top Heavies". The bad cop's name was Nolan, but I hadn't taken the time to learn everybody's name and I was too embarrassed to ask the other cops for help. After a few days of getting that straight, I disguised myself as a mailman and started tailing her on her beat. Oh, did I not mention that Nolan was a woman? I didn't think that I had to, sexist. Unless you thought that the cop's first name was Nolan, which is pretty much exclusively a guy's name. I would understand that.

A man in a cape approached her, looking very suspicious. It was the same guy from the Renaissance fair - it's the awesome coincidence that makes this a great story! He gave her a envelope and Nolan comically acted like she was weighing it with her hand. Nodding, the man gave her a briefcase and then, third time being a charm, a sack with a dollar sign on it. She placed all of these things into the trunk of a flashy sports car (again, not the one from the impound lot - sorry) and produced an important-looking file. I yanked off my mailbag and grabbed for the little gun in my sock, yelling for them to freeze.

Unfortunately, the gun's barrel had slipped and lodged into the top part of my shoe so that I looked like an ordinary mailman angrily tying his shoelaces. Also, "freeze" had come out more like "bees", so it was very confusing. The man in the cape started to ask me if I'd seen any bees around, but then he recognized me from the Renaissance fair and quickly ran off, not wanting to hear any more of my life story.

I finally got my sock gun dislodged, but then Nolan, who really didn't know what was going on, told me to drop it. Outranked and ready to call it a day, I followed her instructions. Luckily, the man in the cape had dropped the important-looking file, which was later returned to the department as evidence. The cops tussled my hair, told me to keep my nose clean, and gave me a certificate for a free appetizer of my choice at Oakland Bar & Grill.

I should tell you that this was a few years ago, so I don't know if this kind of stuff still happens today. If you were to try the same thing, they might make you act like a criminal in a police lineup or wash the mustard stains out of their uniforms. Some of those cops might not even work there anymore. But it was a special time in my life, a trial by fire that left first degree burns on my soul. And more importantly, even to this very day, it's a personal reminder to always bring money to restaurants.