Yes, I could be hit by a bus, killed of cancer, or slaughtered in a blimp attack, but trust me, Diego will be the cause of my eventual death.
Two rookie cops brought in a gun arrest yesterday morning, and sadly, the job was assigned to Diego. I don’t like giving serious jobs to him because they entail a white paper, and Diego can barely spell his name, let alone write a full-page detailed report.
The officers brought up the gun to be processed and took it to Diego’s desk. Diego “took care of things,” then sent him on his way.
About an hour later, Diego submitted his white paper – a document which goes to every detective supervisor from lieutenant and above – and moments later, the sergeant called him to the desk.
Apparently Diego forgot to inform us the following:
1. He never did any checks of this guy’s criminal history, including any open warrants. Kind of a big deal if the offender is released and no one sees, say, a homicide warrant.
2. He never swabbed the pistol for DNA, despite the Directive mandating it. Swabbing for DNA is important since it would eventually identify anyone who was in possession of the weapon.
3. He never told us the idiot cops brought in a loaded gun…
When Diego was called to the sergeant’s desk, he was asked about all these f**k-ups, but mostly about the loaded pistol. This was his dumbass explanation:
Diego: “Well, I thought the cops told you the gun was loaded.”
Sergeant: “When do cops ever tell us anything about a job?”
Me: “He’s right, Diego; cops never tell me what they have. They hand me the report, and go on their merry way.”
Diego: “Well, a SWAT officer couldn’t clear the weapon, so he told the officers to just bring it to the division and take it down to the Firearms Identification Unit.”
Sergeant: “They told them to carry around a loaded gun?”
Me: “Sounds like someone who shouldn’t be in SWAT anymore.”
Diego: “I thought it was fine, and I didn’t swab the gun for DNA.”
Sergeant: “Why not? It’s a Directive.
Diego: “Well, I wasn’t going to swab a loaded gun.”
Sergeant: So now do you see the problem?”
Diego: “No, not really.”
Sergeant: “THE PROBLEM IS YOU NEVER ACCEPT A LOADED GUN!”
Diego: “Oh, yeah. I get it.”
Narrator: No, he doesn’t get it, and he will never get it for as long as he lives.