A couple of days ago the attorney in the office 2 doors down from mine called me to look out her window. Below, about a block down our street, was a SWAT van, 7 police cars and a dark SUV with a color bar on top. There were also a few unidentified vans. The street, however, wasn’t cordoned off, something one would think would happen had it been a real SWAT event. Curious and concerned about what was going on (after all, there was a bomb scare in a high rise a few blocks away earlier in the week), I called the local LAPD station. They knew of no police action in the area – hence it was probably a movie/TV shoot. At first glance, it’s difficult to tell from 16 stories up, but one of the empty buildings on our street is often used for filming.
Fast forward to today, Friday. I took the day off work. After a delightful lunch at Lily’s in Venice with my BFF Ashley , I headed home to find 5 young men standing at the front door to my apartment building dressed in LAPD windbreakers with “Police” scrawled across their backs. One of them had a small battering ram. Above us on the 2nd floor landing was another cop trying to get in through the 2nd floor security door.
Um, I thought to myself as I tried to back out of the front gate, this IS NOT a film shoot.
Cop #1 (holding battering ram”): “Ma’am, do you have a key to let us in?”
Me (to myself): Shit, why didn’t I go in through the back gate.
Me to Cop #1: “Yes, but why do you need to get in?”
Cop #2 into walkie talkie: “Hold on, we have someone to let us in.”
Cop #1 to me: “Parole violation.”
Hmm, they need 5, no 6 counting cop trying to get in through 2nd floor, cops for a parole violation?
Me to all of them: “May I see some badges, please?” (And, no, I hadn’t been drinking.)
After looking at me as if I had asked them all out on a group date, Cop #1 to me: “I can show you my gun.” (And he did.)
Cop #2 to me (raising his jacket and shirt to show a gun tucked into the waist of his jeans – and showing off some nice abs in the bargain): “I have a gun, too.”
Me: “The gun doesn’t interest me, badges do.” (I SWEAR I said this. They may have had guns, but I've been through menopause.)
Cop #2 pulled his shirt down.
Cops #3 and #4 showed me their badges like good boys.
Cop #1: “If you don’t let us in, we’ll just break down the door.”
Me as I opened the front door for them: “Um, what floor is all this happening on?”
Cop #2: “End apartment, ground floor.”
Whew, I live on the 3rd floor.
Whatever happened on the first floor, it didn’t seem to cause much commotion. And I’m happy to say I don’t know the people living in that apartment. But it did take 7 hours before I believed it had happened at all. Nor did I leave my apartment the rest of the day.