Sheriff's Calls

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Morning has broken
— Boyfriend and Girlfriend rolled out of bed bright and early on Feb. 8, rubbed the sleep out of their eyes, and launched directly into the day’s discord. Landlord was accustomed to his basement tenants’ continual conflicts, but when Girlfriend fled upstairs and Boyfriend followed in full throat, Landlord decided it was time to impose a truce. “(Boyfriend) was calling me rude names,” Girlfriend would later explain to JCSO deputies, tactfully declining to detail the specific sobriquets applied to her. Landlord offered Boyfriend two choices, to either “leave her alone or leave the premises.” Boyfriend chose the third option of ignoring the first two altogether, which is when Landlord began to “lightly shove” Boyfriend toward the door. That’s when Boyfriend “grabbed my shirt,” which started a semi-desperate “one-minute shoving match.” It ended when Girlfriend dialed 911 and Boyfriend bolted from the house. Arriving deputies couldn’t find a solid basis for harassment or assault charges, but did ask both Girlfriend and Landlord to give them a buzz when/if Boyfriend comes back. Boyfriend and the county have quite a lot of unfinished business between them, officers explained, and they’d like to settle those accounts at his first inconvenience.

The King of Ken Caryl
— Walking her dog on the morning of Feb. 5, she had no idea she was walking straight into an ambush. Without warning, an irate resident exploded out of his front door and “charged” woman and beast, hollering thunder and breathing fire. He ordered her to “stop walking your dog in front of my house!” He “pushed” her with “open hands.” He “chest-butted” her. She got the message loud and clear, retreating in loose order and calling JCSO. In the interest of neighborly relations, she didn’t want to press charges. In the interest of walking her dog, she wanted the menacing maniac muzzled. Contacted at home, Irate appeared calm as a clam and positively “proud of his actions.” He told deputies that a “conspiracy” exists between “female dog-walkers and people who don’t live around here to let their dogs go to the bathroom on my lawn.” His “new policy,” he explained, is to “aggressively confront and scare them” with the ultimate goal of “stopping anyone from walking a dog in my neighborhood.” The complainant’s description of events was entirely accurate, Irate agreed, and described perfectly his heroic strategy in action. Officers allowed that his course was bold, but reminded him that he didn’t own the neighborhood. Irate disagreed, saying he’d “researched the law” and was satisfied that he had the legal right “to stop anyone from walking on the sidewalk in front of my home” and “kill any dog that’s on my property.” Slowly, carefully, emphatically, deputies did their best to disabuse Irate of those alarming misconceptions, and in the end he seemed to smell what they were stepping in. “I appreciate what you’re telling me,” he shrugged. Officers closed the case, but didn’t latch it.

They’re interchangeable
— Long after happy hour but well before last call, Goofus and Gallant were sharing libations at a downtown cantina when their fellowship turned to fisticuffs. An alert bartender quickly separated the brawling buddies and escorted Goofus out the door. Goofus loitered about the parking lot savoring his grievances, then stormed back inside and fell on Gallant a second time. By the time the bartender restored order, a table had been reduced to shivers and kindling, and the pugnacious pals to bloody shambles. When JCSO deputies arrived, the craven Goofus refused to recount his role in the episode. Gallant, on the other hand, declined to assist the investigation on principle. This being the 21st century, the whole sorry business was captured on somebody’s cell phone camera. Upon review, officers cited Goofus for disorderly conduct and gave Gallant a ride home. The lightly abraded barkeep declared the pair personae non gratae until further notice.