Dreams

I dreamt I had an OIS last night.

I've had the ones where my weapon won't fire or it's got an 800 lb trigger pull. I've had the ones where I can see the bullets striking the target but the guy just isn't going down. I've even had the one where I can't clear leather to engage. This one was different.

Everything was textbook. Guy had a knife and was advancing. I was on my back doing a crab walk in an attempt to put distance between us. Verbal commands were given as well as fair warning before I hit the target center mass. He went down, got up and got two more center mass before slumping down and not moving. Somehow his knife turned to a gun and I kicked it away before cuffing him and calling for help.

Here's the strange part. Officers started showing up and contaminating the scene. People picked up the suspect's body and moved him. Someone picked up the gun and played with it. My brass was getting kicked all over the field. Nobody secured the perimeter and people just walked through willy-nilly. My textbook clean shoot was falling apart in front of my eyes. I tried to yell and scream but nobody paid any attention to me.

Then I woke up. What the fuck was that?

Broken internal

I talked to a doctor about the nightmares, sleepless nights, and social anxiety I've been experiencing of late. He believes I'm experiencing a form of PTSD.

Fantastic.

Wheel of misfortune

Morale is in the crapper and the chief is to blame. He seems to have made it his point in life to keep his inferiors down via stupid memos and policies that don't affect a single way service is rendered to the public. To put it bluntly, the man is a pompous ass whose over-inflated ego makes him think he's something special and everyone from the deputy chief to the lowly patrolmen aren't fit to grovel at his feet.

We're all dealing with it like any cops would - we make jokes and have bitch fests at shift briefings. I've noticed a lot more comments being made to the effect of "going into the bathroom and painting the walls red," "adding more lead to a person's diet," and even hopes of "choking on one's lunch" than usual. I've even made a few myself. I admit, a few times I was half serious. I'm not sure about the other guys. We're miserable; but we're miserable together.

One thing I know for sure, if this were combat, someone would've rolled a frag into the executive shitter by now.

Death

In a job where a person sees so much pain, misery, and pure evil, it is only a matter of time before they become numb to it. Only natural, if you will. It becomes less and less traumatic and more and more mundane.

Then one day, the reaper hits a little closer to home. Not too close, but close enough to really get your attention. An untimely death. I was shocked at the news, but more surprised that the veil of numbness wasn't lifted; not even a little. And while I give my honest condolences and offer my assistance, I can't help but feel like some sort of monster.

Funny, but sad

The sheer number of fucktards in this world this country my jurisdiction is giving me PTSD.

It's like a curse

I don't think that I can even come close to putting the frustration I'm feeling into words.

It's not uncommon to disagree with the way a situation was handled. After all, there's no giant cop guide book that says "If XXX, then YYY," where "X" is the crime committed and "Y" is the action taken. However, to disagree publicly, in front of the suspect while I'm trying to effect the arrest? And then to stand there with your hands in your pockets looking sad for the guy? Dude, what the fuck?

The thing that makes it sting worse is that this guy shouldn't be a cop. He doesn't have the stones or brains. He all but failed his FTO and was recommended for termination by the Sgt and a Lt, a request that fell on the Chief's deaf ears. I don't trust the guy and I can't rely on him. If push comes to shove, I'd rather have no backup than him.

I wish I could tell him: Lead, follow, or get the fuck out of the way. Regardless what you choose, stay out of my AO and remember I've been on the job 5 times longer than you. But alas, he's already previously filed a complaint against the shift because we all gave him the silent treatment. Guess I'll continue to bite my tongue and spit blood.

She's just not that into you

There are a lot of good ways to get a woman's attention. Sending her letter after letter of pornographic stories after she makes it clear she's not interested isn't one of them. Neither is telling her you're going to chain her up in your basement and live a loving life together.

Enjoy your Christmas dinner dude. Unsure of what's being served? It's a bologna sandwich compliments of the city. Bon appétit.

I don't think so...

I was told that the head honcho gave a verbal order that there would be no citations or written warnings issued until after the holidays for traffic offenses. Instead, we are to warn them and offer them happy holiday wishes. Over 30 days of motor vehicular lawlessness.

When did I become a Walmart greeter?

I'm going to go ahead and ignore this until it comes out in memo form - then I'm faxing copies to every news organization in the state.

Little boy heroically shoots, mutilates burglar

NMFJ

Not. My. Fucking. Job.

My shift got a rookie dumped on us. Despite having graduated the academy and FTO, this guy is worthless. I'd rather have actor Michael Chiklis backing me up, at least he can pull off acting like a cop. My boss has asked us to get him up to speed quickly. The problem is, we're not trainers. We don't get the additional 10 grand they do either. As you can imagine, we're a little sour but we're doing it because we need to feel secure that this kid will be able to back us up without getting us killed.

Despite having the short term memory of an Alzheimer's patient, he's cocky. I spit blood constantly from biting my tongue. "Tell me about the fourth amendment," I ask. "Fourth amendment? Hmm. I know that one...That's anything you say can be held against..." he said trailing off. I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Then I got angry. I was angry for us, and I was angry for you. "What the fuck? That's Miranda, not the fourth amendment!"

I took a half hour to tell him everything I knew about searches and seizures. I told him where he could find more information for free. I pleaded that he look into it.

Fast forward an hour. I told my boss and he wasn't pleased. He calls the rookie in off the road and asks him "What's the fourth amendment?" "Oh man, we just went over this," he says. He's dumbfounded.

We've agreed(without command's knowledge) to insulate ourselves from this guy. If I am assigned a call and he's given the backup assignment, one of the other guys will jump on the radio and waive him off. It's meant that we have to stop what we're doing sometimes, but to us it's worth the extra work. When we back him up, we just make sure he doesn't get beat up or killed. We're tired of doing the work of two cops for less than the salary of one.

This is NMFJ.

POTUS doesn't like cops

I've got a bucket full of frustration but can't write about any of it because it's so specific someone in my department could trace this back to me. That only adds to the frustration. So, let's look at the President's comments about police officers and the arrest of a race baiting black Harvard professor:

After admitting professor Gates is a personal friend, Obama is quoted at a press conference saying:

"But I think it's fair to say,
No. 1, any of us would be pretty angry;
No. 2, that the Cambridge police acted stupidly in arresting somebody when there was already proof that they were in their own home; and,
No. 3 ... that there's a long history in this country of African-Americans and Latinos being stopped by law enforcement disproportionately."

The incident, Obama said, shows "how race remains a factor in this society."

Nearly 500 miles away, and Obama's got his pulse on what happened when that racist police officer arrested that poor innocent black man. Well, here's a news flash. Gates got arrested for being a douche bag, not being black. Don't believe me?

Read the Cambridge PD report.

Race remains a factor in this society because people continually scream racism in an attempt to get out of their wrong doing. The media eats it up, the real racists like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson leap up to get their faces in the news and the cycle goes on.

I didn't vote for this asshole but when he won, I hoped that maybe he'd do a decent job. Seven months in and his ratings are falling weekly. I guess I'm not the only one who's disappointed.

Suck my ball bag, you paper pushing asshole

Let me get this straight -

I'm responding to a burglary alarm at an electronics warehouse with no backup. During my response I hit an intersection blocked by a city bus parked at a curb and two dolts who instead of yielding, freeze like a deer in headlights blocking any path through. Thinking quickly, I drive up the sidewalk and around the mess. Some retard citizen dials 911 because I drove on the sidewalk and I get a verbal reprimand for my "reckless driving"?

No, you're right Chief. Next time, I'll just sit at the intersection with my lights and sirens on until it decides to unfuck itself.

March of the morons

Something on my uniform is a moron magnet. I'm thinking of taking up a collection to have scientific tests run on every part of my daily wear to find the cause and therefore, solution to the problem.

There's the guy who claimed he didn't see me diverting traffic around an accident, despite a million blinding LED lights and bright neon green traffic vest with POLICE all over it. Thanks for nearly running me down, dickhead.

How about the guy who wished to report his home was robbed...on January 3rd. Why the five month wait? Oh, he didn't have the time to sit down with us before then. Newsflash dude - Your shit's gone(if there even was shit there in the first place)!

Don't forget about the guy who blows an intersection nearly t-boning the marked patrol unit in the process and then tells me "I don't have time for this you fucking asshole." Sorry it took me 26 minutes to write you that citation, fuckhead. The NCIC system was backed up and running slow. Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Doctor Mario Andretti

I couldn't help but be a little irritated when I approached the driver's side window of the Nissan and was greeted with "Yeah?!?" as if to say "Why are you bothering me dickhead?"

The fact of the matter is the only reason I'm "bothering" this driver is the fact that he nearly hit me head on after crossing the yellow line. As I veered to the shoulder to avoid a collision, I saw a man dressed in scrubs talking on his cell phone. I activated my lights, pulled a U-turn, and accelerated in an attempt to catch the Nissan, which was pulling away.

With the siren wailing, I called in my location and status and squinted to read the license plate. As I caught up to vehicle, it finally yielded and stopped. The driver identified himself as a doctor on his way to the hospital for an emergency surgery. He was upset when despite his excuse, I still demanded to see his license, registration, and insurance. Dr. Mario Andretti couldn't produce an up to date insurance card.

Once back in my car, I ran his license and asked dispatch to call the hospital and verify Dr. Andretti's story. The hospital was able to verify the story quickly and I returned the documents before warning the doctor for failing to maintain lane, speeding, distracted driving, and failure to carry insurance.

Wouldn't you guess the doctor later filed a complaint against me for holding him up. Although the administration agreed I hadn't done anything wrong, they still suggested that I offer the doctor an apology. I declined.

This is what America has become. Everyone is so afraid of litigation that the offender breaks the law and the police apologize for catching him. Pardon me while I puke.

If you're gonna die, die with your boots on

The call came out as Officer needs assistance and I was the primary unit responding. Other units were on the way, but I was close and would beat them there by what seemed like hours. I don't recall passing vehicles or intersections. It was all a blur. The only thing that stuck out was that I could hear the tires squealing over the echoing sound of my siren blaring as I gunned the engine through corners.

From the moment my feet hit the pavement the fight was on. The guy was smaller than me, but in much better shape and obviously stronger. I didn't hesitate and I wasn't afraid. I jumped in head first landing several blows before he turned his attention to me.

I don't remember hearing other officers arrive. My shoulder mic dangled from the radio near my knees, knocked off within the first seconds. I didn't know help had arrived until other arms were grabbing the guy I was wrestling with. I was suffering from a severe case of tunnel vision.

He was back on the street before the report was finished. Thank God for our overly liberal (in)justice system that gives more rights to the bad guys than the good.

Interesting fact

I'll take a messy suicide scene over wrestling a crazy naked man into handcuffs any day.

*Shudder*

Another boring day

"I took this job because it's something different everyday."

If you've ever watched COPS, you've heard someone say it, Hell, I've said it myself before. For the most part, it's true. I say most part because sometimes it is the same repetitive things everyday. You see the same ratbags doing the same thing you pinched them doing two days earlier. Sure, our lenient court system is partly to blame. Mostly it's that people are idiots. We're not talking about NASA scientists here, though you do occasionally find someone who surprises you. For the most part, they're fools.

Some days. however, you see something that you never have before. I had one such day this week. I was dispatched to speak with a "Mrs. Levi" regarding a theft from her residence. I arrived and the only person there was a 450 pound man, about 55 years old.

"I'm looking for a "Mrs. Levi."

"That's me, I called," he replied.

"Wait...what?"

"Mrs. Levi" is actually Frank Levi. Frank always fancied himself more of a woman than a man. Only, Frank doesn't dress like a woman, talk like a woman, and hasn't had any operations to his male parts. Nope, the only thing feminine about Frank is his ladies wallet. If I haven't mentioned it yet, he's creepy as hell too. Like hair on the back of my neck standing up, don't turn your back to this guy creepy.

Well at this point, the my brain punches out and heads home for the day. It had heard enough.

Frank is convinced his 82 year old neighbor who maneuvers with a walker broke into his house and stole 80 dollars from his wallet. Frank whispers the entire time I interview him because he doesn't want his neighbor to hear. His 82 year old neighbor who lives 300 feet away from him - next door.

Normally when I deal with EDPs, they're stark raving mad. Or suicidal. But this...this was one giant mind fuck, at least for me. I got him to write a statement chalk full of his paranoia's and lack of evidence of ANY crime and got the hell out of there. Nothing is going to come of it and I'm not even sure there was any money. I just hope I never have to talk to that guy again.

Ride along

So you'd like to know what it's like to work at my department? This could be our shift briefing, except there's not that many officers on at one time during a regular shift.

*Shudder*

There are few things I like less in life than seeing a dead, naked, elderly woman after rigor mortis has set in. That's an image I hope doesn't haunt me.