It is 11:15 p.m. on a Friday as I squeeze into car #242 with Officer Leah Cyphers.

A former hairdresser, Cyphers is now with the Athens-Clarke County police department in what she says is a less stressful job. I’m in the passenger seat to find out what the police are up to when most of Athens is either partying or sleeping.

11:25 p.m. – I’m told I can stay as long as I want, and get as close to the action as I want.

12:10 a.m. – Action can wait – noise complaints come in. Angry neighbors aren’t happy to hear that you can’t tow a partier’s car when it’s on a public street.

12:40 a.m. – Cyphers spots an empty house with lights on and a massive flat screen TV being advertised to burglars in the front window. She knocks on the door to warn them to close the blinds, but nobody’s home. We’ll check it two more times.

12:55 a.m. – Cyphers writes a tail light warning. I make the mistake of saying this looked like a “quiet night.” Cyphers warns against using the Q word. “An officer said that once,” she said laughing, “and then ‘shots fired’ came out over the radio.”

1:10 a.m. – Domestic disturbance call. Turns out a drunk girl fell on her arm and thinks it’s broken – but her boyfriend did hit her a month ago. “What have you been drinking? I can smell it from five feet away,” Cyphers asked. “That’s funny,” said the girl sitting on the sidewalk, “because I’m completely sober.”

2:15 a.m. – A man is inching along Broad Street with no lights on. After we pulled him over, his arm flopped out of the passenger side, license in hand.

Once he’s out of the car, we admire the tobacco spit running down his UGA shirt. He props himself up against his trunk to keep from falling over as he tries to convince the officer he’s OK to drive.

Cyphers’ pink handcuffs are soon slapped on him, and after refusing a breathalyzer he’s told not to spit in the car. “OK honey,” he says, giving the back of the officer’s seat a kick or two.

2:50 a.m. – Cyphers wakes the man to take him into the jail.

3:20 a.m. – Another noise complaint near Milledge. “Man, these neighbors,” one partier said, “we’re just some college kids trying to have fun on a Friday night.”

3:50 a.m. – Two men are stopped for a broken license plate light on Broad Street, turns out one has a few outstanding warrants in Madison County. He’s polite and mannerly, and we take him to the Madison County line. The Sheriff’s Deputy collecting him there refers to him by name.

4:30 a.m. – Officer Cyphers starts the mound of paperwork.

5 a.m. – I ask her about police officer stereotypes, and she says they don’t bother her. There are jerks in every profession, and all officers are different in how they act. I ask her when it’s OK to be lenient on somebody she finds breaking the law.

“We have a job to do,” she said of law enforcement officials. “But we don’t always assume you’re in the wrong. We’re just there to find out what’s going on.”

She says she busts plenty of people for being intoxicated in public, but she also drove one person home one night because he looked like he was about to fall into oncoming traffic. For Cyphers, it’s all about making the process as painless as possible for the people involved.

“We see this stuff every day, but I try to keep in mind that [the people being arrested] don’t,” Cyphers said. “I try to make it as easy for them as I can.”

That’s why she called one arrested man’s dad to make sure his truck was taken care of, and went back to the truck to put the man’s pocketknife in his glove box. In the end, it wasn’t an action packed Training Day experience, or a beer-soaked Superbad joyride. Instead, I saw what’s going on in the streets on a Friday night when I’m usually stumbling back into bed.

I saw a lone female officer pulling two men over at 3:50 a.m., hoping they’ll greet her with a driver’s license and a smile rather than a 9mm and a pop.

So when you get pissed about that speeding ticket, keep in mind that when you hear that glass breaking in the back of your house one night, you’re not going to call the Ghostbusters.

And next time you’re downtown and cuss under your breath at the passing bike cop, don’t forget about the one who’s back at your house keeping an eye on your flat screen.

- Marc McAfee is the online editor of The Red & Black