Funny Story from FTO

Here is my FUNNIEST and also most EMBARASSING TRUE STORY that happened to while while on FTO. For those of you who do not know F.T.O. stands for Field Training Officer. While "On FTO" you are still a brand new recruit (although an academy graduate) and must be constantly monitored and mentored by your Field Training Officer.


Before going into detail I need to offer a little background on myself. I had just spent 4 years in the United States Army as an Infantryman. I came from a place where when your superiors tell you to jump... YOU JUMP! If they tell you to lay in a puddle of mud... you lay in a puddle of mud! If they tell you to march 25 miles in the rain without rain gear and then pull security at an LZ for hours only to march another 5 miles... you do it! ...and if they tell you not to use the toilet GUESS WHAT!?! ... so you might get an idea where I am going with this story...


So there I was... on patrol. I stopped a car going into a local Steel Factory (always a good place to find dope) and surprise surprise the driver has a warrant. After hooking him up I do a search of his vehicle (incident to arrest). I found some goodies like an electronic scale, some zig-zags and pieces of brillo pad (which are used as filters for a crack pipe). Now this has heightened my awareness and I am taking my time to search everything.


Well I had spent some time in the vehicle's interior and got consent to search the trunk. Of course the trunk was STUFFED with all sorts of stuff... boxes...clothes all sorts of good hiding spots. I had to remove most of it and set in on the ground next to the car.


Well about halfway through the trunk search, I got the bubble guts! No big deal... I could still hold it... I mean I wasn't at any emergency stage yet... but I appreciated the warning. So now I am tossing the trunk like mad so we can start to move out.... gurgle gurgle gurgle... I was panicking now. I quickly summed up the time we had left and things to do... (ok finish the search...transport the prisoner...do some paperwork and then book him in...) I realized that there was not going to be enough time!


I wisely notified my FTO... he always seemed like a pretty reasonable guy I am sure we can stop off somewhere. "No, I'm sorry we can't stop anywhere with a prisoner... you are just going to have to hold it". His tone of voice sounded like he was quoting official department policy and I was not going to question it.


I hurried as fast as I could to get everything back in the car, taking a few moments to stand erect and pinch my cheeks together until things settled back down. Needless to say I was pretty worried.


Gurgle gurgle gurgle... I thought maybe if I better explain the situation there must be an exception, and I would take that opportunity once we were under way. As we drove away I took the opportunity to plead my case. Gurgle gurgle gurgle... "Hey I REALLY need to go...you think we could stop at the 7-11" I asked. "No not with the prisoner, you are going to have to use the restroom at the jail intake". I knew this was not a workable solution. I bargained with him "How about I pull into the station sally port and you wait with him while I run inside?" No I am sorry he has been in those handcuffs for sometime and we really need to get him out. ....(I could not believe it) "OK" was my response.




The county jail is less than a 10 minute drive from where we were... unfortunately this was rush hour. We took the two lane road running alongside the freeway hoping to avoid traffic...NO SUCH LUCK! Of course because a cop car is behind them.. everyone is driving SLOOOOWWW.


This was not good for me... I was really worried! Things were starting to happen more and more ... gurgle gurgle gurgle.... Its even harder to hold it in while sitting down... plus I was driving so now I have to work the pedals and steer... all this movement is not going to help.


Gurgle gurgle gurgle... I used every ounce of willpower available. I squeezed my cheeks together as hard as I could... Nothing was working... I kept looking over at my FTO who seemed to be oblivious to my plight. Gurgle gurgle gurgle... He just sat comfortably looking smugly out the front windshield. OH HOW I HATED HIM. I am sure I let out some soft whimper subconsciously wanting to alert him to my predicament. Gurgle gurgle gurgle...




When he looked over at me his face said it all. I must have looked pathetic. I now have my legs straight out lifting my butt about a foot off the seat. Sweat is running down my face as my muscles quiver trying to hold back the enemy at the gates. gurgle gurgle gurgle "I don't think I am going to make it" I say to my FTO. Gurgle... I thought for a moment about the prisoner sitting behind me... but at this point I don't care... I wish the car in front would move out of the way... I wish GURGLE!


Oh no. I couldn't hold it any longer.... the stomach pains are now replaced with the sensation of something warm, wet and soft pushing its way into my pants. "Too Late" I announced to my FTO. It wasn't as explosive as I had imagined it would be. Rather, it sort of escaped in spasms... giving me the false hope I might be able to stop at least some of it,


"Oh" was all he could say to my FTO. He looked surprised... I am not sure why.. I mean I think the whole situation was pretty well clear up until now.


My FTO now went into damage control mode. "Um, ...tell you what. You just drive into the Sally Port at Intake and I will do the booking." All I could do was nod. I looked back at the guy in handcuffs behind me... he looked as if he didn't know what to say.... maybe he was afraid I would Taser him or something...


As we drove on in silence, I could feel the back of my pants soaking through... I made a half hearted attempt to lift myself off the sear... however this only caused the odor to begin to waft around the tiny enclosure of a caged Crown Vic.





I have given up... A few blocks from the jail my FTO told me to pull over to a construction site... A slender green port-a-potty sat next to the road. My FTO must assume I must have something left in me (no such luck). I instead look at it as an opportunity to clean up.


I let my duty belt fall into a puddle of questionable fluid as I undressed in the cramped plastic green outhouse and surveyed the damage.... There is no room to take off my boots. I tried in vain to rip off my underwear and clean up the mess... I was periodically interrupted by my FTO asking if I am ok... I have a sneaking suspicion he is calling someone on his cell phone.


It's about that time I looked down at the tiny microphone clipped to my shirt and I remembered... this has all been recorded... every sound...e3very whimper...every wipe in the outhouse... All documented forever onto our in car video system..... GREAT.


Long Story Short.... I borrowed my FTO's knife to cut away the offended underwear and then stashed them in some construction garbage near the port-a-potty. We dropped off the grinning prisoner (with a great story to tell the other inmates for sure) and slowly headed back to the city. I was wondering if I was ever going to live this down. I shifted uncomfortably on my brown stained seat and wet pants lined with a few thin layers of one-ply outhouse paper.




"I am so sorry....I had no idea... I didn't think you meant it when you said you weren't going to make it".... I accepted my FTO's apology. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this" My FTO told me to go home early and clean up...


We both learned something about each other that day. My FTO will believe me when I tell him something... and I learned to ignore him when I need to and just go back to the office.

...I wish this were the end of the story...but it's not

You see as soon as we pull into town I get dispatched to a domestic disturbance involving a gun. Now I work in a small town...and this was still before all the administration go home... As we roll code (lights and sirens) I hear everyone including my Chief, Lt. and a Sgt. sign on the radio as going to the call. When we pulled up I drew my shotgun and covered a vehicle my FTO thought was leaving the house.

I am finding it uncomfortable at best to move around... I just feel gross and don't even want to be in my own skin. After clearing the vehicle we approach the house. With half of the department there I cover the suspects with my shot-gun... I realize now that the toilet paper in my pants, with no underwear to secure it has now snaked its way down my pant leg and was hanging out the end.

"You handcuff him EZ" my Sgt ordered... I wasn't sure how to handle this... I didn't want nasty toilet paper falling out in front of everyone and I just knew they would smell me. Well my hesitation was noticed and another officer stepped in. After the whole thing was done I sheepishly limped back to my smelly cruiser. My FTO wisely chose to catch a ride with someone else.

Well the next day my desk was adorned with "Hershey" bars of all sizes (I am still finding them hidden in file folders). I was also blessed with a note from one Sgt saying my video will be great to watch at the Christmas party...and a "kit" from another complete with adult diapers and my own pocket knife. My new name is "Hershey"

... so much for my FTO not saying anything.