If I had a dollar for every stupid human I have come across this week, I could purchase my own Death Star. I would then use said Death Star to destroy the Earth, ridding the galaxy of slack-jawed imbeciles forever.
The good news? It’s only Wednesday.
A victim called Monday to ask where he could report a crime. I told him he could call 911 or go to any police station in the city, since we have twenty-one of them. The guy asks me where our division is located and I tell him we’re located on Broad Street. He then demands I be his Siri, and I had to give him turn-by-turn directions to the building. When he is finished copying the directions, he asks, “Where you’re located, what kind of building is it?”
“Um, it’s a police station, dumbass.”
* * *
Tuesday evening a police officer called and said a male flagged him down and claimed someone broke into his car, taking his Smith & Wesson .38-caliber pistol. This officer, who will eventually be made Police Commissioner, asks, “Is this something detectives would handle?”
“Nah brah, just ignore it and maybe the gun will turn up on its own.”
The only solution is to nuke Philadelphia from orbit. Only way to be sure.