This job is not for the easily offended . . .

I guess after a while in the jail, you become immune to things that would make most people run screaming into the hills. This includes, but is not limited to, any of the following. Naked people, people masturbating in plain sight, blood, urine, feces, vomit, violent assaults, suicide attempts and genuine craziness.
We have an entire unit dedicated to suicidal/homicidal/mentally disturbed persons. Any officer who has ever worked there can pretty much handle anything. Enter our little federal agent guy who comes in to interview an inmate. He walks past one of the "fishbowl" cells designed for suicidal subjects. Naked lady who is not being compliant with her medication is putting on quite a show for all of us. This includes masturbating, dancing naked and generally inappropriate social behavior.
We're not offended, we understand human behavior can be incredibly odd. Federal agent kid freaks the hell out on me.
"WHAT IS THAT?"
"A female inmate."
"I know. WHAT IS SHE DOING?"
"Do I really have to explain that to you?"
"Can't you DO something?"
"Yeah, put her in the psych unit. Oh, wait. You're here."
"Gross!!"
"What did you expect here? Sunshine and lollipops?"

Kind of makes me want to take him out on the squad . . .

American Stupidity . . .

Today I was in the drive-thru of a nationwide fast food chain. My total bill was $6.01. I handed the girl at the first window $20.00 and a penny. She looked like a monkey doing a math problem for a good minute or two. Then she looks at me and goes, "Wait, you get like $14.00 back right?"

Are you serious?

Let's just call a spade a spade . . .

So for those of you who read MotorCop's post about misrepresentation, here's a little spin off piece. Ladies and gentlemen, this is how I know being PC in law enforcement has gone too far . . .

The CAD calls it a "Manufactured housing community" not a "Mobile home park" or *gasp* "Trailer park" on your call location.

"Manufactured housing community?" WTF?!

Rural policing . . .

A recent phone conversation with a friend of mine who is a cop in a very rural part of America.

"Oh God. Now I remember why I didn't want to be a cop where I grew up. I can hear it now. "Hey, we arrested your sister again." Great, let me guess, another meth lab."

"My cousin crashed and the vehicle inventory search turned up enough crap that she got charged with having a mobile meth lab . . ."

Stress indicators . . .

Per my friend you can gauge my stress level by the following:

McDonald's hot fudge sundae: Low stress, short on time
Cup of ice cream from any ice cream store: Low stress, took time to seek out comfort food
Ben & Jerry's single serving cup: Mid level stress, may need a hug
Pint of Ben & Jerry's: Upper level stress, give hug, plate of food and possibly liquor
Pint of Hagen Daz: Probably tears involved, give hug only after approval, hide firearms

Just finished a pint of Ben & Jerry's . . . need hug.

The first rule of firearms . . .

"Listen recruits . . . the first rule of firearms is this: If you accidentally shoot the instructor, YOU FAIL. And for all of you who are laughing back there just remember one thing; we wouldn't have to say that if someone hadn't done it."

Oh God.

"Be careful when you fight the monsters, lest you become one."

It's probably better for everyone involved that I have been slacking on the posts lately. It would have been less humor and more griping. That being said, I feel I must say this.

There are few things in life that hurt me more than when I find out someone I trust or even try to emulate turns out not to be who they seem. I will not bore you with some of the more slightly traumatizing examples of this. However, lately at work this seems to be the trend. One of my formerly favorite sergeants is going to get fired for his off-duty conduct. My former partner from back when I worked the disciplinary segregation housing unit will probably be fired next. My best friend on the department, who I have known since before I became a deputy had to break the news to me.
Sarge is an idiot. His actions cost him his wife, his almost twenty year career and his friends who no longer trust him.
My former partner almost cost an officer his life tonight.
I think back to the "good times" of working the disciplinary unit with him. We would joke and tell stories, we were hired a day apart as deputies. I think of all the times I trusted him to back me up, and I wonder how I survived. Shortly after I was reassigned to the maximum security housing unit, his assignment was permanently changed. The reason was our captain thought he was a bit too chummy with inmates.
I wish our captain was still here. I want to go tell him he was right.
Tonight my former friend and partner placed an inmate above officers. "Friendship" above security. "Kindness" above the law.
My best friend was on the receiving end of his actions. He is the one who was forced to report the security breach.

I find myself reading my favorite Joseph Wambaugh books over again. For those of you who are familiar, they are cop books written by a cop. Where's the Oracle when you need him?

The inmates are not our friends. They are not officers. Never turn your back on your brothers.