At the beginning of the year I went to the pistol range to qualify with my duty pistol - something I've done since I was in the Police Academy with regularity. This time it was different. This time I had to present my police identification. Then the range officer saw my ID, scanned it with an infrared scanner and told me which lane I would shoot from. I knew exactly what this change meant.
It meant some fucking slapdick asswipe with no personal or professional integrity posed as his buddy and qualified for him. Sometimes police officers are their own worst enemies. Coppers get a ton of fringe benefits. But being untrustworthy is precisely why we can't have nice things!
I'm just waiting for some slick defense attorney to bring this up during the next big trial. Great defense attorneys are masters at planting doubt. The next time a retired running back with bad knees stabs his ex-wife ... I can see it now, "Is it true you and your brother AND sister officers can't even be counted on to be truthful when qualifying at the pistol range!? Is it not true you have to present your police ID because of integrity issues in the past?" You don't think that'll plant some doubt?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
A voicemail no parent wants to get
Good afternoon, sir. This is Officer Twenty Two of the Big City Police Department. This is regarding your (3 year old) daughter. It's very important you call us back as soon as you get this. I can be reached at 212.555.1212.
I left that message to some poor father's voicemail several days ago. If I ever received that voice message I just might crap myself on the spot.
Something you ought to know; as far as the father I was attempting to contact knew, his daughter was safe and sound some ten miles away in a sleepy bedroom community, at day care. Little did he know his precious little girl was accompanying one of the day care providers to their doctor's appointment in the Big City.
It started for me with a radio call of a "found juvenile" in our division. A young lady was waiting for the bus at a bus stop when she saw a little girl crying and running around. After taking five minutes to calm the little lost girl down she got her name and that was about it. So the young lady called the police, we arrived and we were in the process of getting a child safety seat to safely take this little girl to the police station and put her in protective custody while we attempted to find any of her legal guardians. To make a long story short, the head of her day care showed up after about ten minutes. She had lost the little girl when she had to use the bathroom at her doctor (?). So after speaking with the child's father and getting his permission, we released the little girl to her day care giver and went on our way.
I left that message to some poor father's voicemail several days ago. If I ever received that voice message I just might crap myself on the spot.
Something you ought to know; as far as the father I was attempting to contact knew, his daughter was safe and sound some ten miles away in a sleepy bedroom community, at day care. Little did he know his precious little girl was accompanying one of the day care providers to their doctor's appointment in the Big City.
It started for me with a radio call of a "found juvenile" in our division. A young lady was waiting for the bus at a bus stop when she saw a little girl crying and running around. After taking five minutes to calm the little lost girl down she got her name and that was about it. So the young lady called the police, we arrived and we were in the process of getting a child safety seat to safely take this little girl to the police station and put her in protective custody while we attempted to find any of her legal guardians. To make a long story short, the head of her day care showed up after about ten minutes. She had lost the little girl when she had to use the bathroom at her doctor (?). So after speaking with the child's father and getting his permission, we released the little girl to her day care giver and went on our way.
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