**From the Archives. Originally posted October 13, 2007**
I've never been one to thumb my nose at authority. But on Friday, there were two occasions at work where I found myself being uncharacteristically defiant to men in uniform.
It started when a photographer and I were headed out to Port Aransas that morning to cover a boating accident. Apparently a fisherman was trying to get around a ferry leaving its launch and it crashed into the front. So when we arrived on the scene, we parked the news unit in a place we thought was okay near the ferry operations office. However, as we got out and started walking to where all the action was happening, I heard a voice call out from over my shoulder.
"Hey! You can't park there!"
I turned around and saw the modern version of Roscoe P. Coltrane (sans Flash). A tall, middle-aged fellow in a white uniform came out from behind what looked like a tollbooth, which was also behind a chainlink fence. I knew immediately that this man's sole purpose was to keep an eye on rogue vehicles parking near the station.
"It's okay!" I hollered back. "We're with the news, this won't take too long."
What came out this guy's mouth next surprised me.
"I don't care who you're with. You need to move your truck!"
"Whoa." I thought to myself. Not even REAL cops tell us to move our vehicles in that tone of voice. In fact, real cops don't really tell us to relocate all that much, because most real cops are actually cool. So I asked my partner Manny for the keys to the unit so I could move it, and I was walking back toward McGRUFF when I asked him where I COULD park.
His response was simple. "I dunno." he said as he shrugged.
What came out of MY mouth surprised me.
"Oh!" I snapped back sarcastically. "Thanks a lot!"
Just at that moment there was some conversation over the glorified crossing guard's radio. I thought I was getting kicked off of the ferry landing. In reality, it was someone from the office letting Cookie Cop know that for the moment, it was cool for us to park there. So Sipowitz waved us away and we went back to doing our job.
Fast forward to later that day, when my story sent me on a search for the victims of the boat crash. Unfortunately, I had to go looking for them at a hospital.
For those of you out of the media loop, the privacy policies at hospitals make it very hard to get information - PERIOD. Therefore, reporters have to use sneaky tactics in order to find people and find out what their statuses are. And thanks to a reporter in Amarillo sneaking into a hospital for a security story, we TV reporters are frowned upon in the medical circle. In fact, we're downright hated. (Why you gotta be hatin' hospitals??)
So I Inspector Clouseau'ed my way through the halls and made it to the emergency room. Dressed in my nice Friday duds, I acted the part of concerned citizen and asked if the hospital had treated the boaters involved in the accident. For a moment, they started looking through their computers to check. I was very surprised, thinking that I was going to get the information I needed without blowing my cover. I was just about to ask for the name of the victims when one nurse 'got smart' at the worst moment.
"Who did you say you were with?" she asked.
Well, I had to be honest. I didn't think they would buy my bit about being a casting director for 'Grey's Anatomy.'
"I'm Alex Stivers with 6 News." I said sheepishly.
The second I said it, the nurses eyes got very wide. Almost as if I had caught her in the act of something. Then, a scowl came over her face, and the face of the nicer nurse who was just about to help me. However, she had stopped what she was doing.
"Why does everyone give me that look when I say that?!?" I asked.
Then, almost as if he was summoned telepathically, a very old man in a blue security uniform appeared from around the corner. The nurse who asked me who I was came from around the desk lectured me.
"You need to go to the waiting room, and we'll have someone come see you."
So I complied and walked over to the next room and parked myself in a chair. It was your typical waiting room. I actually saw a cockroach scurry from the soda machine to the snack machine. It was about 5 minutes when a "head nurse" entered the room, and Deputy Dog was right behind her.
The two met me in the middle of the room, the nurse right in front of me, and the security guard flanked between us. He was giving me this strange 'old man - go to hell' look. I looked over at the nurse and shot her a look that said: 'who the hell is this guy?'
This head nurse spat out her statement as if she rehearsed it coming downstairs.
"He's here because you're here. All I can tell you is that you need to call our public information officer at this number." she said as he handed me a card. "But right now you have to leave."
In my usual cocky tone, I said "Fair enough." Then I casually made my way to the sliding doors to outside. I suddenly realized that Rent-a-Cop was following me out, as if it was his prescence that was making me put one foot in front of the other and leave.
I wonder if he has a little whiteboard in that broom closet office of his that has a tally of "TV Reporters Escorted Out." Such a spare.
And that's the reason I don't have health insurance. (Not really) :)
AX
