My Most Recent Encounter with the Po-Po

This unfortunate story took place in April and I have been hesitant to share it with you. Though, at the urging of a few friends and family, I am now sharing this story.

I'm over at a friend's house (mind you, I do not have my own car, so she had to pick me up). I am there for about 45 minutes when my phone rings. It's Charlie. "Mom, I'm stranded at the library". (He rides his bike to the library frequently since we live so close to it). "What? What do you mean stranded?", I ask and a little annoyed that he's calling me while I'm visiting a friend (he knows to only call if it's a true emergency). "I mean I am STUCK at the library!", he replies, a little annoyed with me for asking him to define "stranded". "O.K, so you're stuck at the library. You rode your bike down there, so you can ride back home...right?", I inquire. "Yes, but I can't get the bike chain lock to unlock", he informs me. Grrrrr.... I sigh and respond with,"Did you line up the letters (it's a "Word Lock" which uses 4 letter words as your "code")? Did you try it several times?". "YEEEESSSSSS!", he says, exasperated. I sigh heavier into the phone and tell him to get an adult to help. He says as quietly and pleadingly as possible, "no." I grunt and sigh into the phone. I want him to know how displeased I am that I'm being inconvenienced by this and quite possibly will have to inconvenience my friend to drive me down there. I ask him why he can't get an adult to help him. He informs me or actually reminds me that the code word on this particular lock isn't one he wants to seek help with.

Flash back to two years ago when we bought the two bicycle chains with the word locks. Autry had his bike stolen and we bought "the best locks out there" as well as the easiest. You choose a four letter word that you would remember and presto, secure bicycle! We NEVER thought we would have to share our code words with anybody. It would be an inside family secret. We needed a word that we would all remember, however absurd or crude it was. We chose two words, one for each lock, "Piss" and "Fart". (I am blushing as I write this.Truly. I live in a house of boys, what can I say. "Shop" and "Mall" are not going to make the cut.)

My gracious friend hauls me to the library. I get out, walk over to the bike. I figure it'll be like the pickle jar lid. You know, where it's been loosened with the first three twists but the original "twister-of-the-lid" has given up too soon, so the next person comes to the rescue and "pop", it comes right off with minimal effort and the first "twister" feels like a dork while the second "twister" feels quite proud. No, that never happens at your house?........yeah, it doesn't happen here either.

Anyway. That is NOT the effect it had. That sucker wasn't budging! I said a four letter word, "crap". I asked my friend to take me to my house so I could get the instructions. She hauls me over to my house, I go searching for the instructions. Found them in the first place I looked. (WOW!). I also grab the other lock. I hop back in her van to go back to the library. I read the instructions. There isn't anything about unlocking a stuck lock. Nothing. Nada. Zip, zero, zilch.

The Police Dept. is next door to the library. I tell Charlie to walk over with me. I release my friend on to her life, so our dramatic life can finally reach a resolution. I'm wearing a pink sweater. My hair is curly. I have makeup on. I'm looking cute that particular day. (WOW!) We walk into the station (a 39 year old mom with her 7th grade son). We ask for help. Dispatch sends out a cop, complete with gun on the hip. I smile and breathe. I tell him what's going on. I show him the instructions as well as the other chain/lock that I picked up when I went to the house. He examined the chain/lock and commented how bicycle chains are better than they used to be. He may not be able to saw through it if that is what it comes down to. I think to myself a four letter word, "crap". He plays with chain/lock in his hand and asks for the word. I blush to about 3 shades  pinker than my sweater and smile and say non-chalantly, "fart". His expression tried to hold a poker face, but I saw a flinch. He wasn't expecting a cute 39 year old mom of a 7th grade boy who happened to be with us to say "fart". He asked me again, pretending like he didn't hear me the first time. I'm pretty sure I shouted it the first time! Why he didn't hear it the first time, I don't know. So, I nodded my head and grinned and said, "fart".
 Grrr...I'm thinking this is a long afternoon. We arrive at the bike. The reason Charlie called to tell me he was stranded. The reason my visit with my friend was cut short. The reason my friend had to schlep me and her kids to the library/my home/library. The reason I'm standing here, a good, up-standing, homeschooling mom of a 7th grader who happened to wear clothes, hair and makeup (all 3 on the same day. WOW!) having to ask a police officer for help with a stuck bicycle chain/lock. He squats down to examine the lock. He grapples with it. He then looks up at me (I know what his question is), I answer his unspoken question with a four letter word. "Piss".
Grrrr.
I was seriously hoping it didn't have the afore mentioned pickle jar effect. It didn't. He had to go get some wire cutters. (I'm sure he didn't say a word to anyone back at the station. Right? uhmm...Right!) He came back with some serious wire cutters! They were HUGE! He cut the chain. We thanked him and parted ways. Me embarrassed. Charlie relieved. Po-po with a new anecdote.
You're welcome Mister Officer. Glad to have contributed some humor to your typically stressful job (and to be the star of your next story at the water cooler).