What's Wrong With This Picture: Charlie Sheen's Other Escort Edition
The Washington Post‘s Paul Duggan blogs that Charlie Sheen arrived late to his Washington DC show after being escorted by local police officers at speeds of at least 80 MPH, an incident the actor documented in the tweet shown above. And lest TTAC be accused of pandering to lowest-common-denominator Charlie Sheen voyeurism, Duggan teases an interesting question out of the situation: can just anyone get a police escort and drive legally at illegal speeds? Hit the jump for your answer…
Duggan asked the DC police what it takes to get a high-speed police escort, and reports:
Responding to an inquiry about the police cars, D.C. police spokeswoman Gwendolyn Crump described what happened as routine. “This escort was handled as a reimbursable detail,” she said in an e-mail Wednesday afternoon. “This means that the government was reimbursed for the services provided.”
But can just anyone hire police officers to provide a lights-and-sirens motor escort? And is it okay to go 80 mph?
How much does it cost?
Crump said Wednesday that she wasn’t sure.
“I’ll check on it.”
Inconclusive, eh? Must be one of those “if you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it” situations…
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According to the safety Nazi's cars are supposed to become unstable death machines at anything over 70 mph (used to be 65, before that it was 55). Perhaps someone is trying to kill Mr. Sheen? Right after this little "dangerous" escapade the same cops probably went back to writing tickets for those doing over 75. Pathetic!!!
Here's a question. Can anybody identify the car that the picture was taken from? I can tell it's a GM by the radio, but nothing beyond that.
Alex Roy got a police escort in one of the gumball races. And he’s not even famous. And he is known for blatantly violating traffic laws. And he impersonates the police in these races. This video is pretty good, cop even escorts them on the wrong side of the road and through red lights. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbbtK90LZ9E
I was 17 in 1994, in the suburbs of DC. My friends and I were pretty tame... this evening's chief objective was to collect as many blinking construction barriers, open house signs, and the like as we could and strategically place them in one of our friend's yards. I was in my dad's unfortunately death-proof '82 Camaro Berlinetta V8 while two other friends were in their also unfortunately death-proof Pontiac 6000. After an evening spent driving all over the county collecting (the Camaro's hatch swallowing up far more than I would have expected) we parked strategically and started to unload and arrange our collection around midnight. A few minutes in, a barking dog and the neighbor's floodlights made us take a short break, getting back in the cars and laying low. Then I saw Caprice lights come around the corner (a skill I think most of us had early-on), then three more come up from behind, then the Camaro was lit up by searchlights. (my friends in the Pontiac laid low this whole time and were never approached, the blinking hatch of the Camaro couldn't really hide me). The officers realized they had a decent kid doing something a decent kid thinks is bad... so they played the scary cop role. I yessir'd and nosir'd for a while, then the ranking officer sent the other cars home. He turned to me, looked me in the eye, and said, "We're going to put all of that stolen property back tonight. I'll put my lights on, and you just drive as fast as you're comfortable driving." The next two hours were like a dream. A high(ish)-speed "chase" that sarted and stopped all over the county, occasionally putting back the signs and making small talk about cars with the officer. I'd been driving that Camaro since I was about 14, so despite its severe performance limitations, I was comfortable going over posted limits, especially at night, especially with a police escort. The last sign was put away, I was given a very friendly lecture, told with a smile and handshake "I hope I never see you again!" , and headed home to bed just as the sun was coming up. As I pulled into my parents driveway I saw that my own yard had been viciously toilet-papered. Turns out the girl we were targeting that night was out with her own friends.