People always ask me to share stories about my work as a prosecutor. Mostly because criminals are dumb. I thought I would share one here, and see what others have for funny work stories as well.
This one I call "The Leg", it's from a blog post that I did today (can find the rest of the post at http://maplegrovebarefootguy.blogspot.com/2010/11/from-prosecutor-files.html). Yes, I'm a blog whore.
This is an actual case I handled circa 2005. It is also my favorite work story EVER.
So a man meets a hooker in a bar. This isn't the opener to a joke. It's a variation on the classic man meets hooker story. Okay, maybe not classic for you, but it is for me....if you consider my "clientele".
A man meets a hooker in a bar, and they decide to go back to his place to transact a little "business". When they get to the man's house, the hooker tells him that she wants to freshen up before their "business meeting" (I'm putting codewords for "sexual relations" in quotes because it's funnier to me that way). The man lays on the bed to get relaxed and takes off his prosthetic leg. Because why wouldn't you take off your prosthetic leg before sex? I dunno. I guess I've never considered the logistics of stump-leg sex before.
Anyway, the hooker gets done freshening up (which probably means, she pulled a George Michael and did a line of coke off of the toilet or something) and comes out to gaze upon her "client" in all of his glory. Now I think coming out of the bathroom to see that someone has lost a leg would be a little frightening. Apparently she found it to be a wealth generating opportunity. She began looking around the bedroom and noticed that Lieutenant Dan over there on the bed had put his wallet and all of his "man jewelry" on his nightstand. Sensing she could skip the "pay for play", she runs over to the nightstand, grabs the wallet and jewelry, and starts to leave.
Apparently before she leaves she thinks a little bit about logistics. Every great caper needs a great getaway. And every second counts. So to aid her escape, the hooker runs back into the bedroom, grabs the prosthetic leg, and runs out of the house. Way to cripple the cripple!
I think she would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for that damn cop that lived right next door...who happened to be getting ready for his night shift in his squad car at that particular moment. And since skantly clad women don't run down the street with prosthetic legs just every day in Minnesota (maybe California...anyone?), he decided to investigate.
You have to thank our boys in blue for that one. Had he not been there, I think dude would have been too embarrassed to make the "hooker stole my leg" call to 911.
And so began the case that I call "Theft of Leg". That was my first, and hopefully not last, trip into the skeazy underworld of leg theft.
This one I call "The Leg", it's from a blog post that I did today (can find the rest of the post at http://maplegrovebarefootguy.blogspot.com/2010/11/from-prosecutor-files.html). Yes, I'm a blog whore.
This is an actual case I handled circa 2005. It is also my favorite work story EVER.
So a man meets a hooker in a bar. This isn't the opener to a joke. It's a variation on the classic man meets hooker story. Okay, maybe not classic for you, but it is for me....if you consider my "clientele".
A man meets a hooker in a bar, and they decide to go back to his place to transact a little "business". When they get to the man's house, the hooker tells him that she wants to freshen up before their "business meeting" (I'm putting codewords for "sexual relations" in quotes because it's funnier to me that way). The man lays on the bed to get relaxed and takes off his prosthetic leg. Because why wouldn't you take off your prosthetic leg before sex? I dunno. I guess I've never considered the logistics of stump-leg sex before.
Anyway, the hooker gets done freshening up (which probably means, she pulled a George Michael and did a line of coke off of the toilet or something) and comes out to gaze upon her "client" in all of his glory. Now I think coming out of the bathroom to see that someone has lost a leg would be a little frightening. Apparently she found it to be a wealth generating opportunity. She began looking around the bedroom and noticed that Lieutenant Dan over there on the bed had put his wallet and all of his "man jewelry" on his nightstand. Sensing she could skip the "pay for play", she runs over to the nightstand, grabs the wallet and jewelry, and starts to leave.
Apparently before she leaves she thinks a little bit about logistics. Every great caper needs a great getaway. And every second counts. So to aid her escape, the hooker runs back into the bedroom, grabs the prosthetic leg, and runs out of the house. Way to cripple the cripple!
I think she would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for that damn cop that lived right next door...who happened to be getting ready for his night shift in his squad car at that particular moment. And since skantly clad women don't run down the street with prosthetic legs just every day in Minnesota (maybe California...anyone?), he decided to investigate.
You have to thank our boys in blue for that one. Had he not been there, I think dude would have been too embarrassed to make the "hooker stole my leg" call to 911.
And so began the case that I call "Theft of Leg". That was my first, and hopefully not last, trip into the skeazy underworld of leg theft.