Hillary Clinton: Too Connected to Jail

Recent events have evoked a memory for me, a memory of a lesson in how life works in the real world. One day in the late ‘80s I was patrolling with a partner near the Los Angeles Coliseum, where a rock concert was about to begin. The streets surrounding the venue were choked with traffic as late-arriving concertgoers sought out the few parking spots left to be had. Traffic was at a standstill on a side street just south of the Coliseum, so frustrating one driver that he chose to drive down the wrong side of the street and pass all the stopped cars, among which, sadly for him, was the police car piloted by yours truly.

In due course my partner and I were in conversation with this driver, a man in his mid-20s. It was readily apparent that he had over-imbibed, and after the customary field sobriety tests he found himself handcuffed and in the backseat of our car. We were left with the matter what to do with his car and his passenger, his wife as it happened. If she had been sober, we could have released the car to her and sent her on her way, perhaps to enjoy the concert after scalping her husband’s ticket. But she was at least as drunk as her husband, so we had no choice but to call for a tow truck and impound the car.

So incensed was the woman at hearing this news that she began to berate her husband for ruining what she must have imagined would be an enjoyable evening. As happens with many intoxicated people, her mood suddenly shifted, as she apparently thought that sweet-talking us would spare her husband from arrest and their car from the hook. She continued in this vein until the tow truck appeared and its driver set to hoisting the car. At this, she turned angry once again and proceeded to give me a solid slap across my face. And in due course, she, too, was in handcuffs and seated with her husband in the backseat of our car. And off to jail they went, he for drunk driving, she for battery on a police officer.