True friends . . .

How to know someone in public safety is really friends with you:
"I would give you CPR without a mask."

Stop talking . . . no, really.

So some friends and I went to dinner last night to enjoy ourselves before everybody's parade/honor guard details today. I guess we should announce our presence by all being armed, and wearing raid jackets with vests that say "Sheriff" in foot tall letters. That being said, let me introduce you to our waitress.
First of all if you are going to sit at our table with us to take our order, it better be standard in you restaraunt. If you flop down in a chair and start telling us how your life sucks that you had to work a holiday weekend, and your boss is "a fucking idiot;" we might be a little taken aback. After that shock, the night surprisingly got weirder.
Not only did we get some of the worst service ever experienced at an upscale restaurant, we had to call the cops. She would repeatedly disappear leaving various members of our dining party to go to the bar and ask for their dinner/drinks/napkins/ect. When she did come back she felt the need to flop down in a chair and share MORE of her life story.
The made for TV movie version is this: boyfriend with warrants and no license takes her car from restaurant with her permission. Boyfriend is gone 3+ hours. Waitress at one point answers her phone while sitting at our table and proceeds to curse at him loudly. She then informs us he is out securing a drug deal in her vehicle.
We walk outside to leave only to see our waitress in a physical altercation with . . . you guessed it, the boyfriend. While like six of us break up said fight someone else is calling 911. They were gone before the city cops got there. Not before we gave them the plate number and her name . . .

Needless to say, we'll be complaining to the owner and telling him maybe he should get rid of her. She's bad for business. Oh, and he should probably tell her to STFU about illegal activity to customers; especially when they're cops.

Because it's all about you. . .

So on on our last call of the morning, right before shift change, this happens. We pull into one of those poorly marked apartment complexes I so dearly love. The parking set up in this particular one was made for a time before SUVs. The squad barely fits down a narrow aisle, and ends up parking awkwardly at the end of it. While locating the apartment we are searching for, we are accosted by a college age male.
"Just how long do you think you're going to be?"
"Hmm. Depends on why they called 911. We're shooting for less than 10 minutes, more than 2."
"DO YOU THINK YOU COULD MOVE THAT THING?!?!"
"To what are you referring? The ambulance? No. Not so much."
"It's in my way!"
"Oh. I apologize. We'll tell that to whoever called 911 and may be DYING."
"I have to get to work on time!"
"We have to get to the hospital on time. It's an emergency. That's why we have lights."
"You don't understand!!"
"You're right I don't understand why you think you're more important. Get the hell out of my way before we call the cops."
"I'll just move it myself!!"
"And then you'll get arrested."

He did NOT move it. I was almost sorry he didn't get stuck behind us for something lengthy like CPR or childbirth.

The Great Outdoors . . .and you

So perhaps if one was to go camping in say, the woods, at a state park. And one was to wake up with say, itching of the arms and legs. Does this warrant a call to 911?
Yes, apparently. (Did I mention you're camping?)
I'm not a doctor people, but our crew and two rangers took a straw poll. Answer?
Poison ivy. As evidenced by tiny blisters/redness.Thanks for that 300 am squad call. Especially since it's mutual aid for us because the park is packed and squads are tied up on other things. (Alcohol related, I know all of you are shocked.)
Even better? The participants of this fine 911 call already had experienced prior contact with the rangers. Why? Because they were irate no pizza business would deliver back into the primitive camping section of the park . . .

So you've never been to jail . . .

I never thought I would say this, and I realize that it goes against all that is cop. However. I would much rather deal with someone who has been arrested before, than someone who has not. If they're frequent fliers they ask *less* stupid questions. Last night's winner? During lockdown time I got this:

"Uh, ma'am? How do I open my door back up from inside once it closes?"
"You can't."
"Are you bein' serious?"
"*Sigh*"

Oh American justice. . .

Brothers that always have your back . . .

For those of you who are noticing a reoccurring theme in my posts about loyalty/brotherhood; there is a reason or two behind that.
Aside from the unwavering belief that someone should always answer your call for help, there are a few other motives for my life in public safety. One of them is family. I joined the fire service because I wanted a family. Same with the sheriff's department. I love my families. I cry when they cry, celebrate when they celebrate. I hurt when people let the family down.
My fire lieutenant saved my life once. Literally. That is a debt I can never repay. I can only hope to have a positive impact on other lives.

Yesterday I got the best news in a long time. My partner, the brother I never had in real life, is returning. After a brief two year hiatus across the state, he is coming back home. There are not enough words or space here to explain what this means to me. Anyone reading this who has ever been fortunate enough to be assigned with a permanent partner that they like, knows. He is literally the male version of me. I can order for him a restaurants. He can tell what I need during a trauma call before I can. We were inseparable. I'm glad he's coming back home, squad has never really been the same without him.

Welcome home. We'll be in service shortly.

BROTHERHOOD.

Ants go marching . . .

So today after a fabulous dinner with friends, we headed to the city park. One friend is lying in the grass trying to convince our other friend to do the same.
He looks at our friend lying in the grass and goes, "No. I'll get bit by a fire ant."
"You will not."
"Yes I will, I'll lay down directly on top of a fire ant hut. Pueblo. Whatever the hell they live in."

I believe it's actually a Quonset hut . . .