Stan Faddis-Probation Worker and Prankster, Part 5

I like to play practical jokes. I’m not one who likes to scare people, although I have done this on occasion. I just like to joke around and sometimes come up with some pretty good pranks. I also like it when others prank me which indicates I can dish it out AND take it. Sometimes, I suppose my joking is just weird, but it usually gets a laugh and, to me, that makes it all worth it.

For instance, when I worked in the Juvenile Probation Department (JPD), I’d get into an empty elevator and stand facing the corner, my back to the door. I would ride it up and down the four floors of the building, waiting for people to get in. I did not acknowledge them or look around. Most everyone did not say anything or ask me if I was okay or not. Since I did not look at them, I didn’t know who was in the elevator with me. I surmise that, on at least a few of those occasions, there were some management types or even the Chief Probation Officer. This might explain why I never got promoted above the line staff level, but I’ll never know. As I said, this is probably a character flaw - messing with peoples’ minds. It was harmless, but probably not too smart. 

Sometimes I would sit in the one stall of the second floor bathroom at JPD. I could see through a crack between the door and the frame through which and I could see the reactions I could get. I’d make weird sounds like I was in pain or crying. Most of the time they would be laughing quietly, but other times they couldn’t keep from bursting out in laughter. Sometimes when I walked out of that bathroom the guy I had been messing with would be standing in the hallway, waiting to see who had been in the stall. My favorite times was when a fellow officer would bring a minor in to get a urine sample from them. The officer tried to keep it together and the kid would try his best to provide the sample, but my sounds made both tasks almost impossible. 

Speaking of taking urine samples, I was in there once with a minor I did not know after being asked by his female PO to obtain his sample. The kid was having a tough time of it so I asked him if he was reluctant because the sample was positive for drugs. He strongly denied it even after being pressed by me several times. While this was going on, a fellow PO came in and heard our interaction. I looked at him (BTW, his name is Bruce Hendry and he liked pranks as much as me) and immediately knew he had something in mind. Bruce said, “Hey Stan. What did  you think about that training we had the other day on how to see positive urine samples by holding them up to the new light they invented?” I played along saying it was very cool. Just then, Bruce looked up at the (run of the mill) fluorescent light in there and said, “Hey! It looks like they’ve already installed on of the lights on here.”  By then, the kid had produced a small sample and handed me the bottle which I out into the baggie. We asked him again if it was dirty and he said it was not. 

Bruce suggested we test it right then and there, so I held up the sample to the light. Bruce stood behind me and we made a big show of peering at it. Bruce stated, “Oh man! That sure looks like a dirty test to me.” Simultaneously, we looked at the minor who instantly hung his head in shame and said, “Yes, sirs. It’s dirty, I smoked some marijuana last night.”    

By far, the best prank I ever played at JPD (and almost got played back on) was when I hatched up an elaborate plan. I had been advised by management that I was being moved administratively to Adult Probation which is not uncommon and it was going to be a nice change of pace for me. 

During the two weeks prior to the move, I played several pranks on my coworkers which led to the grand finale. One of my best friends, Paul Luera, had a lot of interesting items in and around his desk. These included a poster of John Belushi from the movie “Animal House,” a large Harp beer mug and a stuffed armadillo. One day I typed a memo to him which indicated it was from the deputy chief probation officer. It stated that the DCPO had noticed the “unprofessional” appearance of Paul’s desk and he had until 5 p.m. to remove it or he faced severe “disciplinary action.” I put the memo in Paul’s mailbox and waited for him to return from the field. I was at my desk in the adjacent bay when he came in and went to his mailbox. I couldn’t see him but I knew he had read the memo because he cried out, “Oh no! I’m in big trouble!” I was busting up with laughter as I heard him scrambling to clean up his desk. He was making little sounds of distress and I couldn’t bear to make him suffer any longer. I went to his bay and confessed I had typed the memo. His look of relief was priceless.

I played several other jokes and, as a result, one coworker, Wendy, asked me if I was going to play one on her. I told her it wouldn't work if she was expecting it so the answer was “no.” However, a couple of days later, I came up with a big prank for which I needed her help so I told her this. She excitedly said she really wanted to do it, even though she hadn’t heard the plan and I did not think she would go along with it because it involved me kissing her “against her will” in front of everyone in the unit. Even after I revealed it to her, she agreed to play along.

Wednesdays was “goody day” when someone in the unit brought in treats for us all to share that morning. Since that was the day and time everyone was there, the prank would be played to the largest possible audience. As we all gathered around the food, I gave Wendy the high sign. She nodded that she was ready. I got everyone’s attention by saying, “I’ll be leaving soon and I’m going to miss you all. But Wendy, I am going to miss you the most.” I reached for her, took her in my arms and kissed her on the lips. Someone gasped but there was complete silence otherwise. Wendy acted very upset and said, “I’m going to the fourth floor!” This meant she was going to go complain to the Powers and she stormed out of the room and headed for the elevator. This announcement shook the others because they knew that good ol’ Stan was in big trouble. My coworkers went to their desks and our supervisor, Ned, retreated to his office having contracted a sudden and severe migraine. I followed him and watched as he sat down and cradled his head in his hands, rubbing his temples and moaning a bit. He said, “Stan! What have you done? How are we going to handle this?”  

The plan was for Wendy to be gone for a minute or so and then walk back in for the big reveal that what happened was just a prank. She didn’t come back and I began to worry. It crossed my mind that she could easily have gone to Management to make a sexual harassment claim. She had witnesses and this event could have cost the county a lot of money and me my caree. I began to panic. Just then, Ned’s phone rang. The caller ID showed that a manager, Glenn Arima, was calling Ned. He answered it, listened and said, “We’ll be right there.” He hung up and said we were needed on the fourth floor. My life flashed before my eyes and I knew my days as a probation officer were over. 

In the elevator ride up, I confessed to Ned the whole thing was a practical joke that Wendy and I were both in on and asked him if he was in on something with Wendy to turn it around on me. I prayed he would say yes, but he denied it and I knew he was telling me the truth. 

We walked into to Arima’s office and saw Wendy standing there with her hands covering her face, crying. Now I was terrified. Then, Wendy peeked at me through her fingers and smiled. Instant reliefI Arima, sitting at his desk said, “Stan, are you causing trouble again?” He was smiling.Wendy, Ned and I walked to the elevator laughing about the whole thing and I complimented her on getting my goat in the process. We agreed that Ned and I would go back to the unit and that Wendy would come in a minute later. 

As Ned and I entered the unit, all seven of the other PO’s were heading out the door to escape the trouble. It reminded me of cockroaches scattering when the light is turned on. Ned announced, “Freeze!” and everyone stopped. He said, “Mr. Arima wants incident reports from everyone on what just happened here.” My dear friend, Paul Luera, who had been approximately four feet away from the “crime” said, “I didn’t see anything!”  A female coworker vowed that she was going to kick Wendy’s [backside] for telling on me. Good ol’ Stan, nice guy. Just then Wendy walked in. The seven glared at her. She walked toward me and we both laughed and gave each other a high five. It took a second, but our coworkers realized the whole thing was a prank. Pauly even said it was “genius.”  I said, “Shame on you probation officers for taking the side of the perpetrator against this poor victim.” We all laughed and then went about our day knowing that their goats had been gotten and that all was right between Wendy and me.