by One of the things I’ve noticed as a cop, is: we see alotta naked people. I’d have to guess that 3 out of 10 jobs I’ve handled involved nudity in one way or another. Usually it’s somebody answering the door completely nude. I said to my partner once: “If you dialed 911, and you knew company was coming, and you knew the cops were gonna be at your door any minute, wouldn’t you put your pants on?”
Most people answered “Yes.”
One day during the changing-of-tour, a stark naked woman walked nonchalantly into the station house and right up to the front desk. Her nudity meant nothing to her. However, it was causing quite a ruckus amongst the troops.
“Quick! Somebody get this woman a sheet,” ordered the lieutenant.
A cop rushed up to the precinct dorm, grabbed a sheet off a bed, ran back downstairs, and handed the sheet to the naked woman. It was expected she’d wrap the sheet around her body. Instead, she took the sheet and wrapped it around the top of her head like a turban. Then the woman turned and casually walked out the station house—still naked as a jay-bird.
One time I was sitting in my police car, stopped at a red light. I saw across the street, on the other side of the avenue, a naked man wearing only thigh-high, rubber fishing boots, held up by suspenders. He was walking away from me and all I could see was his backside flashing in the sunlight. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was anxious for the light to change so I could drive over and double-check if this was real or not. But by the time the light turned green, the bare-butt “fisherman” disappeared down an alley.
There used to be this guy, who, every Friday night, would strip down to his running shoes and jog through the neighborhood in his birthday suit. And every Friday night the cops were called to take the naked jogger back home to his very fed-up-I’ve-had-it-with-this wife.
Why do cops see all this nakedness? Well, a lady on the street explained it to me. I, and another (male) cop, were standing on a footpost near a busy intersection. A woman walked up to us and said, “I wanna show you something.” And, she lifted up her shirt and exposed her bare breasts to us. Alarmed, we said, “Lady, put your shirt back on!”
She said, “But I want you to tell me what this rash is.”
“Ma’m,” we said. “You can’t take your shirt off like that.”
“Why not?” she said. “You’re like doctors, aren’t you?”
Duh?