Years ago I was working as a "house dick" in a big hotel in Dallas, and numerous buds on the Dallas PD would come in and visit on their breaks and luch times. A good friend invites me to ride with them on my night off. I ask him their policy on armed ride-alongs, and we trade winks, end of story.

I show up with my trusty Star PD in my trusty pancake, my work rig, under a windbreaker, and off we go, not a word said. Everthing is fine until we catch some little turds breaking into a school. A spare unit takes one, we load the other, and we're off to downtown to the city jail. I'm not giving it a thought. Into the sallyport, out of the car, some distance across the underground lot to the jail door, other cops coming and going. At the door, a big sign, "NO WEAPONS". Oops...

My bud and his partner put their guns in lockers for the purpose. I can't go back to the car, it's locked, and what would be my excuse? I can't check *my* weapon into a locker, I'm supposed to be unarmed! This is all happening at normal speed, and takes less time that it does to read this. I have no choice, but to bluff it out. Yikes.

The jail is bedlam, puking drunks, fighting drunks, yelling, argueing, cops everywhere. Overlooking it all on a raised platform is a big ol' desk sargeant. I ease over to an empty piece of wall as far from the action as I can get, and try to look either small, or invisible. I figure back to the wall, and coat pulled around kinda bunchy, is the best I can do. Every time the sargeant's gaze comes my way, I get a hot flash, and stand-up neck hair.

Of course, the booking takes an eternity. All my parts take turns going to sleep, but I dare not leave my wall. Finally, they motion me to the door with them. Woof! Back in the car, I'm almost a puddle of relief. My bud turns in the seat and says I look a little pale. I say no s**t, next time I'll know, and give him an eyebrow toward my right side. LOL... *He* goes white as a sheet! I swear I can see a light bulb flashing over his head! Without a word, he goes back out, and we all go back to normal, and finish the shift with no more collars.

Nothing was ever said about it, and it passed into legend among my civilian friends. I figured to leave well enough alone with my cop buddies. I don't know how many people have ever packed a 45 auto into the Dallas city jail, but it can't be many. In the long lense of many years, everybody in that jail was pretty occupied, and the odds of scanning for lumps on a ride-along kid standing against the wall were pretty slim. It just didn't feel that way at the time.:)

JLF