There is a theorem among certain circles which claims female police officers are somewhat less capable of doing the job than men. In nearly twenty-seven years in law enforcement, I can honestly say this is partially true. Yes, there plenty of useless sacks of protoplasm. The pretty girls who spend a week in patrol before being transferred to some captain’s staff, or the whiny bitches who refuse to handle a job without backup. Or the badge bunnies who sleep their way to a cushy daywork, weekends off spot.
There are also some smart, tough, hardcore female police officers in my department; people who I have called friends. They do the job and do it well, and have no compunction about getting their hands dirty.
The female officers in this story are nothing like the latter.
So Frick and Frack called the division around 5:30pm Tuesday. Unfortunately, I picked up the phone and had to suffer through the idiocy. Frick stated she and Frack stopped a vehicle and they recovered a firearm. The offender stated he applied for a Permit to Carry, so Frick wanted me of all people to run the permit through the system… because apparently I work for these two bints.
“You do know you can run it through your Mobile Data Terminal in your car, right? Of you could also call the Gun Permits Unit, and they would tell you right away.”…
Frick did not appreciate my answer – which is not my problem – and I told her to call back when she knew the status of the gun permit. Three and a half hours later, Frick and Frack entered the building, dropped the paperwork off at my desk, and the heading read “Investigate Object.” We use that code when someone recovered a firearm which was discarded. I entered the job into the system, and halfway through, I stopped.
“Officer, is this an arrest?”
“Why did you code this as an investigate object them? You code it like that and your arrest goes away.”
Frack looked at me like I had three heads. The supervisor who sits across from me figured he would help out these absolutely clueless dumbasses, and he explained the difference between an investigate object and a firearms arrest. He did not do so with sarcasm, sadly, but was patient with Frank.
As the supervisor is explaining how things work, Frack started walking down the aisle. The bitch actually did this as he was talking to her; just walked away form him. The supervisor called after her, “I mean, I figured you would want some advice from a supervisor who has twenty-four years on the job, and a detective who has twenty-seven years on.”
Bitch still kept walking. The supervisor looked at me and asked, “Did that actually just happen?”
Yes, yes it did. I did let the supervisor know Frick and Frack made The List, and Diego will be their personal detective from here on out.