Crimestopper of the Year, no big deal.

This is a story of bravery and booze and burglary and boys that has been evolving for nearly a year. And since it has come to a pinnacle point, I have to at least document it for history's sake.

Curious?
Get comfy, you may be here for a while.

...let me take you back to Memorial Day weekend, May 2011.

I was in between moving into my new house and staying at a friend's condo down the street, when on that Saturday eve, we were celebrating my bff Lindsay's birthday, happy hour style, at a favorite watering hole in midtown.  After a quick stop at the condo to change for the partizzy, I heard 2 strange , "boooooshhh" noises coming from outside.

I ran out to the patio to see two young little jokers throwing bricks into an innocent car parked on the street below (breaking in, I assumed).

I didn't know what the hell to do, so just as all concerned citizens handle witnessed street crime, I yelled {and I quote}:

"Hey, Stop You Little Fu*kers!"

just like that. fierce huh?

but guess what? one of the little fu*kers did run off, the other one reached in, grabbed the loot and took off running.  But I watched the whole thing; saw exactly what they looked like, watched them switch pockets and pass things back and forth, cross the street and go up the ally.

but what in the heck was I supposed to do now?

go find the unfortunate owner of the baby red mini-cooper who was now less electronics and petty change, I'm sure?

call the police?

call my friend?

what was really going through my head: "ugh, i didn't have time for this...i am gonna be late for the party, and moving sucks and i need a beer" 

so. I call my girlfriend who owns the condo. she's off at a different party and really didn't believe me and thought I was joking ...but told me to call the police even though they couldn't do much, or something, or whatever.

{sidenote: we live in the heart of an urban area of a large city, so even in nice neighborhoods, like ours, petty crime is common and often. we're used to it and typically, unless there is a lot of damage it's pointless to call the cops and more often that not, we never call}

I finished getting ready

...then I had a conscience.

and I felt for the unfortunate baby mini cooper dude. {I've been there}

and cursed the teen punks who were probably only gonna get $20 for what they took.

so from deep in the depths of my useless knowledge I pulled out the non-emergency number....by heart.

impressive, i know.

862-8600

that's right.

the convo went like this:

me: hey, so i really don't have time to talk, but I just saw two kids break into a car, I yelled at them, one ran, the other took stuff then ran.  they had on blah blah blah blah. looked like blah blah blah. 

dispatcher: ok. well do you know where they went?

me: yes, the went down Bradford towards 8th. Oh wait, they're running out of the Murder Mart now.

dispatcher: I'm sorry, running out of where?

me: oh you know the sketchy market down the street. now they're running down the ally.

dispatcher: ok. well actually there's an officer in the area who's listening to your descriptions and is going to that area.  will you be able to stay there?

me: not really. I have got this party I've gotta get to. there's not much else I can tell you, but do tell the officer to call me on my cell if he has ANY questions!! 

dispatcher: ok, great. thanks for your call and we'll be in touch.

Fast forward one hour later, I'm on the patio at Brewhouse with a rowdy group of folks clad in red white + blue celebrating an awesome girl {and America, duh}.  I told the story and the hilarity and mockery immediately turned to my bravery as a "crimestopper".  Shortly there after I get a call from the officer... 

And then another call. And another.
Each time I would have to say, "hold on, I'm in a bar and I can't hear you."
He'd ask me a few more details.  Then he called to say they caught them. Then called to say they were accusing each other and could I verify who took what.
And by the fourth conversation, HOURS and a many-a-beer later,  I would answer and the officer would literally say "hey laurel, I know you're in a bar, but if you could just call me when you get a second or step outside I've got another question."

for real. it was hilarious.

I was soon deemed "crimestopper of the year" and the night went on, thinking the whole situation was over.

not so much.

The officer calls me the next day, and lets me know they've booked the teens, they'd been in a lot of trouble and this was going to send them to Juvi, but they would be in court at 3pm that day if I wanted to come.  Before I could say how much I didn't want to go he says "I mean, I know you may not feel so hot today, and really I just have to say this by law, but really it's not a big deal, they're going away regardless".  I say thanks and I'm glad they got them and goodbye.

Three days later...
I'm living in my new house and my friend gets a knock at her condo door.  She opens the door to a dude holding a bottle of wine.
It's baby red mini-cooper dude.
He found out from the cops what condo the call came from and wanted to bring me a bottle of wine to say thanks...especially because he was able to get all his stuff back since they were caught so quickly. The really crappy part was that he had literally just moved to Nashville THAT Saturday and had been parked there for only 3 hours when his car was broken in to :(.

Needless to say, my girlfriend starts talking to him, they share the bottle of wine and she ends up DATING baby red mini-cooper dude's roommate.

Seriously. I told you. I can't make this junk up.

My crimestopper status remained in tact and sly jokes come up every now and then and truly that's what it was....a crazy circumstance and fun story to tell.

Until mid-March when I opened my mailbox to see a letter from the Nashville Metropolitan Police Department.

Dammit.
I prepared myself to open it to find a picture of me running a red light, or one of those tricky sneaky speeding tickets they now give out.

oh no, OH NO.  this is what I find:

If you had been a fly on the wall, you would have seen me read the first paragraph silently, then die inside, then run to find Daniel & Lindsay who just happened to be at the house, read it to them, and then watch us all completely lose our marbles, laughing so hard we almost pee and can barely breathe and are literally on the floor rolling in laughter.

This can't be for real.  

But yep, on Thursday, April 19, 2012, I was awards the Citizens Commendation Award from the Nashville Police Department at a nice ceremony at Lowes Vanderbilt Hotel.

My mama and Ms. Bonnie came to town in full hysterics to accompany me to the prestigious ceremony.  I thought I may have to muzzle or sedate them to curb the giggles that were sure to come. Honestly, the ceremony was fantastic. There were about 250 people there, it was ceremonial, our Mayor was there {he's well loved and a near celebrity here} handing out the awards and there were some really awesome stories of heroism...{mine was not one of them}.

They called the award winners names and as we walked to the front to accept the award from the Chief of Police and Mayor Dean they had a narrator that told the "story" of what we did to be rewarded.  Mine was less than impressive and I remained more focused on not making eye contact with Mom and Ms. Bonnie in fear of the immature emotions & reactions.

I promptly sent out this picture to all my friends who have shared in the year of crimestoppery with me.  Then the ole hags and I enjoyed a nice lunch at a bbq joint down the street.

Moral of the story: memorize your non-emergency number, don't fear talking to a cop while your in a bar drinking, keep a conscience, and don't use my tactics in stopping neighborhood crime, it was a fluke really.

Oh, and last week, I received this 8 x 10 glossy in the mail. Thanks, NPD.

No worries, my plaque is hanging on the wall in my office where it will soon be flanked by my official photo and award letter.

Crimestopperly yours,
Laurel