By way of the
SF Chronicle I found this
humorous and poetic police blotter from the Arcata Eye. The Chronicle provided the following primer on reading the blotter:
The personalities of these often hapless characters are an integral part of the Eye. They include Pete the Ragman, the blanket-clad wanderer whose stench sometimes obscures a loving heart, and "Guitar Dan" Stephens, whose ever- present all-weather guitar is "somewhat intonation challenged." There is the Fun Bunch, a gentle group of hoboes who smoke and drink breakfast, lunch and dinner on the railroad tracks.
The transients in town are "travelers," the panhandlers "sidewalk socialites." Most have spent time in the "Pink House," the Eureka County jail, which happens to be painted pink.
Some sample entries from the blotter:
Sunday, April 21 1:59 a.m. Bar closing time, and fists bloomed like five-fingered flowers just south of an historic Plaza storehouse. Wednesday, April 24 1:01 p.m. In the greenest part of the lower forest, just up the trail from the 14th Street gate, a he and she allegedly broke out their own green – nugs. Things got greener still, when a uniformed park ranger appeared unexpectedly. His ticket book was soon two lighter.
Sunday, November 18 11:19 p.m. A tangled web of intrigue in Valley West included a guy at a pay phone informing what a witness surmised was a girl at the other end of the line that he was going to kill her. "I'll kill you!" he said, slamming the phone down, striking it and sustaining possible hand injuries, then stalking off toward the credit union. Meanwhile, a car was observed "parked kind of odd" behind a liquor store with a woman in the passenger seat. Coincidence, maybe. Lynchian certainly.
Wednesday, November 21 5:55 p.m. A fellow who'd recently and repeatedly put cup to lip positioned himself next to an F Street pet shop and took to yelling and hitting himself. He was trundled off to the tank until the beverages wore off.
Thursday, November 22 5:36 a.m. 6:49 p.m. A woman out walking in the Marsh as night fell encountered a man who rode up on a bike, greeted her and initiated small talk. Perfunctory preliminaries accomplished, he next asked if he could take her to dinner. She declined. He then scaled back the request to having coffee. Another no, and as she walked toward the all-too-distant City lights, Mr. No-Means-Maybe apparently figured he just hadn’t selected the right form of social recreation and pressed his quarry to attend a movie with him. Again she rebuffed his clumsy courtship and asked him to leave her alone. The clod-on-wheels finally got the message and rode off. Making her way to the South I Street parking lot, the woman noticed a dark, four-door hatchback circling, its lonely pilot formulating his next approach. As she walked up I Street towards home, he pulled up alongside and asked her out again, as though a desperate drive-by come-on might be the beginning of something beautiful. "Leave me alone!" she said, and ran way, but he began pulling his car around toward her. She ran. Again he pulled up and told her, "It’s dark out here. You have a long way to go." Frightened, and in an effort to buy time, she humored him with small talk, and he sped off. She soon encountered another man and asked him if he’d accompany her back to town, which he did. Eventually she reached the sanctuary of her home, only to find the Marsh stalker there and waiting, as though he had followed her. Apparently hoping to capitalize on his wealth of accumulated charisma, he introduced himself as "Jeff," and notified her that he was an Aquarius. Reverse-captivated by this sodden singles-bar datum, she called police, who checked the Marsh and environs but only found some other people who were told that the area is closed to the public after dark. Jeff is described as having short black hair, baggy eyes, a dark complexion, wearing dark clothing and probably single.
This is just quick sample of what caught my eye. You owe it to yourself to peruse these reports further.