Now Why Would You Go And Do That?

A Bronx cop gets busted for buying weed — in his own precinct:

A Bronx cop assigned to the “buy-and-bust” division was nabbed for scoring marijuana in the same precinct he was assigned to protect, the NYPD said.

Ten-year veteran officer, Milton Smith, 44, was arrested at 4 a.m. at University Avenue and West 179th Street for buying an unspecified amount of dope — within the boudaries of the 46th Precinct where the officer was assigned to catch dealers in sting operations, according to his wife, Dahlia.

“He was in the ‘buy-and-bust’ division or that’s what he told me,” the shocked woman told The Post. “It’s really unbelievable.”

Although they are separated, Dahlia said Smith is a “devoted father” to their son and “loves his job.”

“I can’t believe he’d be capable of something like that,” she said.

Smith, who was off-duty at the time, was charged with criminal possession of marijuana and official misconduct. He has been suspended without pay and was released without bail last night.

Look Mom, No Hands!

I was raised in the kind of family where we were always told that if you’re going to try on a dildo harness, never be quoted for attribution:

“I thought it was really informative,” said Orlando Rodriguez, CC ’09, and the only student who volunteered to try on a dildo harness.

Applebee’s Dreams, Or “Oops, How Did That Get In There?”

Five-year-old is “accidentally” served a Long Island Iced Tea at the Battery Park City Applebee’s, gets rocked, mother sues:

He ordered apple juice at Applebee’s — but the restaurant allegedly put so much yippee in his kiddie cup, the Manhattan 5-year-old ended up in the emergency room after a bizarre boozy bender of clowning, shouting and stumbling.

Now the boy’s mom, Cynthia Pereles, is suing the chain eatery and a downtown franchise for serving her son, Seth, a Long Island Iced Tea — a walloping cocktail of white rum, gin, vodka, triple sec, coke and sweet-and-sour mix.

“I’ve never seen him act like that before,” Pereles said of her son’s behavior during a July 2 visit to the Applebee’s on North End Avenue in Battery Park City.

Pareles, 33, said Seth, who’d been pestering the waiter, gagged when he took the first swig of his “juice” while he ate dinner with two cousins.

“I thought he was just being a pain in the neck,” Pareles said. “He sipped it again and said ‘Uch, uch. That’s nasty.'”

As her child’s behavior became erratic, Pareles said, she eventually took a sip and tasted alcohol.

Pereles said she confronted the staff about the drink, and that the manager admitted the restaurant somehow gave Seth the cocktail.

The mother is suing the independently owned restaurant and the Applebee’s parent corporation for $75,000.

And just to be clear, there is nothing funny about a drunk five-year-old. Nothing funny at all:

“He was laughing uncontrollably, his eyes were glazed, and he started licking the wicker bread basket,” Pereles said. “He was not Seth . . . He said, ‘Mom, I can’t listen to you because of that nasty drink.'”

The panicked mother, who says she never even lets her son drink soda, left the restaurant. On the street, Seth “was hollering, yelling people’s names, laughing hysterically and bending over.”

A police officer approached and advised her to fill out a report and call an ambulance. As a precaution, Seth was strapped into a stretcher and taken to Beth Israel Medical Center. “He crashed in the ambulance. He was so tired,” Pereles said.

Doctors found alcohol in his blood and Seth had to be hydrated, his mom said.

“He was the joke of the hospital,” Pereles recounted. Nurses giggled as Seth tried to take off his shirt. Staff came from all over “to look at the boy was who drunk.”

And the psychological scarring is severe:

Since the incident, Pereles said Seth has had trouble sleeping and has nightmares in which people die or he feels trapped and spins uncontrollably. He calls them “Applebee’s dreams.”

“He says ‘I don’t want you to die, I don’t want to die,'” she said.

Seth began seeing a therapist and has sworn off apple juice.

(It’s not the worst thing in the world to swear off Long Island Iced Teas forever, is it?)

Tonight We’re Gonna Party Like It’s 1985

In the New York Press, Brett Selmont tags along with a coke dealer on New Year’s Eve, the busiest night of the year:

After we drop some cash and drugs, Mr. White and I head to the West Side for a penthouse party. Again a friendly doorman lets us right in with a “good evening” and we ride up the elevator to the penthouse. Inside, there are floor to ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the city, and a baby grand on a small stage in the corner. It feels like Billy Joel might start playing at any moment. Several expensively-dressed people mob Mr. White, offering him drinks. A few girls give him warm hugs and kiss his cheeks.

The next half hour is a chaotic struggle of attempts to arrange deals. The party is large and people are scattered about trying to find this or that person who wants coke. Mr. White gets dragged through every room in the place. After he makes his deals we eat some shrimp cocktails and knock back some Dom Perignon. His phone starts ringing off the hook, so we’re off again.

. . .

We left the [Williamsburg loft] party, which was still running, at about six. Mr. White’s eyes were red and narrow. He’d been working since noon — 19 hours of dealing with people and drugs. He wouldn’t tell me how much he’d made, but I knew he’d sold around 100 grams, maybe more, which meant he’d made that night what he’d usually gross in a good week. I figure it at seven or eight grand. All I know is he worked his ass off and at the end of the night he didn’t look too happy. As we got into his car, his phone rang again.

Are there really this many people still doing cocaine? Didn’t anyone see Traffic? Did they learn nothing from Less Than Zero? Did Grandmaster Flash’s exhortations not to do it register in any way at all?!

Bonus Point: Drugs and Terror: The Important Role of Prevention.

Sir, Step Away From The Rat

The rat — that sweet inflatable rat you see in front of union wrath-incurring job sites — may not be around much longer after the National Labor Relations Board ruling that deemed it confrontational and beyond the pale of normal free speech:

The inflatable rubber rat, bucktoothed bane of strikebreakers and emblem of union wrath, may be headed for retirement. The National Labor Relations Board is now considering a case that could make it harder to employ one on a picket line.

At issue in the case is whether the rat is the equivalent of picketing, which can be restricted under federal law, or a form of free speech, which enjoys far fewer limitations. The case, which was filed three years ago, is slowly percolating through the system, but the labor board is poised to make a ruling. If it decides the rat is, indeed, a form of picketing, it could have a chilling effect on its use.

“It’s going to inhibit the rat,” said Alvin Blyer, the director of the Brooklyn, Queens and Long Island region of the board. The board’s national office will eventually rule on the case.

For those unfamiliar with the rat, consider this description provided in a ruling by Steven Davis, an administrative law judge for the board who heard the case in his Brooklyn court in March:

“The rat presents an imposing figure,” the ruling says. “The rats here were 15 or 30 feet high. The body of the rat is gray with pink eyes, ears and nose. Its sits on its haunches with its front paws outstretched and claws extended. Its mouth is open, baring its teeth.”

. . .

In his 30-page opinion, Judge Davis ruled against the rat.

“The union’s use of the rat,” he wrote, “constituted confrontational conduct intended to persuade third persons not to do business with Concrete [Structures Inc., which filed complaint against the Laborers’ Eastern Region Organizing Fund, the body that puts out the rat].”

He continued: “A rat is a well-known symbol of a labor dispute and is a signal to third persons that there is an invisible picket line they should not cross.”

The union has appealed the judge’s ruling, and its lawyer, Lowell Peterson, said he was confident the rat would survive, even if the labor board decides against it.

“Ultimately, I think the rat will be vindicated, if you will,” he said. “Their theory that there’s something magical about the rat is wrong. There’s nothing magical about a rat — it’s just ugly.”

If the rat was banned, the union’s lawyer promised to use a skunk instead.

The rat in question: