File this under the category of pigs fly and hell freezes over.
I have been asked by Spokane Police Department consigliere Tom Lee to attend a sit-down with Anne Kirkpatrick, the new chief.
Lee said they will pick me up outside of the newspaper on the morning of Nov. 28. Then we will drive to …
The Donut Parade on North Hamilton.
This sounds like the punch line to an old joke. But I’m really not making this up.
I’ve been asked to meet with the city’s top cop in A DOUGHNUT SHOP!
Need I remind you of the less-than-flattering observations I have made about our local police?
Not to worry, assured Lee.
“Nobody here’s gonna call you an ass, either. I think my co-workers have other words. Anyway, we’re gonna have some fun and go have a cup of coffee and a doughnut.”
Lee claimed the idea was his. That should cool his chances for promotion. He said he proposed the doughnut meeting as an example of the chief’s newfound spirit of departmental cooperation.
“Why don’t we just try to get along here a bit,” Lee added.
Hey, I’m not the gibbering oaf my column photograph may lead most of you to believe. I’ve seen a lot of movies. I know what this is.
I’m being set up for a whack.
Must I draw you a Nov. 28 picture?
10:15 a.m. We walk into the Donut Parade, inhaling the intoxicating smell of artery-clogging grease, sugar and dough.
10:16 a.m. We choose a place to sit. Kirkpatrick and Lee park across from me.
10:18 a.m. Coffee is poured. Doughnuts are ordered.
10:20 a.m. The chief brings up a few of my past references to her department.
“”Otto Zehm met his end in a Spokane convenience store. The boys in blue came pouring in and beat him to the floor.” (Aug. 27, 2006)
“”SPD stands for: … Secrecy, Paranoia & Deceit.” (July 11, 2006)
“”Anyone presiding over Spokane’s Finest must do a lot of looking the other way.” (June 11, 2006)
10:25 a.m. We all chuckle uncomfortably.
10:26 a.m. Lee excuses himself. “Gotta go see a man about a horse’s head,” he quips.
10:27 a.m. Inside the men’s room, Lee takes a moment to steady his pulse rate. He reaches behind a toilet tank. After a few failed grabs he finally discovers what he is searching for: a fully charged Taser hidden earlier by a rookie stooge.
10:29 a.m. Lee saunters back to the table. In a deft, smooth move he fires the Taser into my forehead. I fall in an electrically twitching heap into my half-eaten maple bar.
10:30 a.m. “Call for backup,” Kirkpatrick tells Lee. “Tell ‘em we’ve just lobotomized a deranged smartass for resisting arrest.”
Newfound spirit of cooperation, my oversize fanny!
My only hope is in getting the word out. Some of you may want to happen by the Donut Parade around the time of the morning rub-out.
A victim can never have too many witnesses.
Sure, I could be overreacting.
This is the Spokane Police Department, after all, not the mob.
Sitting down with a cop-bashing reprobate like me may really be a sincere attempt to mend fences and change the department’s stained image.
Look what happened earlier this week.
Kirkpatrick was credited as the “driving force” to give the press and public access to the daily police and sheriff’s activity logs. “The chief has said she is committed to openness and accountability in the Police Department,” stated the news story.
Wow. A 24-hour running log showing calls for police service. We haven’t had that kind of access in decades.
You know what I call this?
I call this a clever ruse to lure Doug to his doughnut shop doom.
(Cue “The Godfather” theme.)