So the other day I’m sitting at my desk minding my own business when the phone rings. Like an idiot, I pick up the phone and say, “Detective Division, may I help you?” The woman on the other end started off with ignorance and scorn, so naturally I wanted to drop everything to help this caustic human.
Aunt Esther: “Yeah, what is the name of this person I am talking to?”
Me: “Detective Earp.”
Aunt Esther: “What is your first name?”
Me: “Wyatt. Is there something I can help you with, ma’am?”
Ironically, this “woman” liked dishing out bile but was not keen on receiving it.
Aunt Esther: “I want to know which one of you took my son’s cellphone.”
Me: “Well ma’am, there are a hundred detectives assigned here. Do you have a name of the person assigned to your son’s case?”
Aunt Esther: “No, I don’t know any of you people up there.”
Me: “Okay, how about you give me your son’s name and date of birth and I’ll look it up in the system. (She gives it to me.) What was your son arrested for?”
Aunt Esther: “I don’t know. Something… armed robbery, a stolen auto, something like that.”
At that very moment I realized why this woman was so angry; she knew she is a garbage mother and raised a violent thug.
Me: “Okay, hold on. I’ll check the database and get back to you.”
Aunt Esther: “Fine.”
Now, with the exception of me snarkily giving her my name, nothing I have done so far could be considered disrespectful. In fact, I bent over backwards to help this woman, even though it was obvious she hated me and hates cops in general.
Me: “Okay ma’am, there are five arrests under your son’s name. Can you spell the first name?”
Aunt Esther: “I gave you his date of birth!”
Me: “I know, ma’am, but the arrest system does not immediately show the date of birth, so I would have to open each and every case. But that’s fine. Hold on while I check each arrest.”
Spoiler alert: after checking the arrest records, every other arrest was also her son.
Me: “Ma’am, I found your detective. Let me know when you can write down the name.”
Aunt Esther: “You’ll have to hold on. My other phone just rang.” (She puts me on hold.) “Okay, I’m ready.”
I give the woman the name of the detective assigned, who was expected in the division later Saturday evening.
The woman took down the information and said goodbye, so I hung up.
Five minutes later, the woman calls again…
Aunt Esther: “Yeah,is this Earp?”
Me: “It is.”
Aunt Esther: “I talked to you a few minutes ago, and you gave me that information. I said thank you and you slammed the phone in my face – a provable lie – so I’m calling back to tell you you’re ignorant – I’m ignorant?!! – and you’re very, very rude.”
Aunt Esther punctuated the call by slamming the phone down.
Normally this would bother me, but after checking the report of Aunt Esther’s carjacking criminal thug, I noticed her son’s phone was listed as evidence. In short, that phone will be returned after the trial, which should be a year or two from now.
Maybe it’ll be returned after this woman is awarded Mother of the Year?