Chilly Bathrobe

It's been a cold, icy night. The temperature has been hovering right around freezing since the shift started, and we've had the car accidents to prove it. On a four lane divided highway earlier tonight we had two cars lose it on the same patch of black ice and wreck. One officer checked out with the first wreck. That driver had jumped the grassy median and wound up facing the opposite way from whence he came.

I pulled in behind the second driver, who had hit the ice and bounced and spun from curb to guardrail to median. One of his tires had been ripped free from it's wheel. The driver was a Hispanic guy wearing a bathrobe. Normally this is when I would start a little investigation into Mr. Bathrobe. First question would have been something like "Why the hell are you wearing a bathrobe?"

But, my mind was a little occupied. The Weirdo had just called to say she was heading home from her parent's house with the Monkey in tow. I was standing in the median panicking. There were two wrecked cars in sight, a third had rolled over a little while ago, and a fourth wreck had happened just before my shift started. There was black ice all over the roads and my wife and kid were driving home. Oh, and just minutes ago I saw a friend's Facebook status about how she had been in a wreck with her baby in the car. Because of the ice.

I lit up a cigarette, not really caring about looking professional, and covered my bases with Bathrobe:

What happened?
Uhh... I skidded.
You want an accident report?
No. 
You want a wrecker?
Yes. 

The wrecker was called, and I stood there in the median. A big van came slushing by, and about 100 feet past me I watched the van suddenly veer left, fishtail to the left, then to the right, and somehow manage to catch it and keep going. I took a puff, imagining the Weirdo fishtailing all over the highway.

She's a good driver. She always bragged about how she really enjoyed hydroplaning in the pickup truck like a freak.

Moments later the Weirdo called, saying she had spotted my patrol car where I was working the wreck with Bathrobe. From that point I was counting in my head, estimating exactly how long it would take her to get home. Right on cue, she called again to say she was safe in the driveway.

The police stuff I can handle. Domestic dispute? Someone's got a gun? Let's do it! But give me half a reason to think my family may be in danger and I become a chain smoking nut. Thank God they made it home safe.

Hmmm.

Hey Bathrobe! C'mere a minute...