I have never been a big fan of the daywork shift. Going to bed at 9am is awful, waking up at 5:30am is even more awful, and while the day shift is usually somewhat less chaotic, it’s still rather busy.
Having said that, the overnight shift had a handful of amazing, hard-working detectives, mixed with a handful of absolute bums. Take this morning for instance. As I walked into the building – half hour early, as usual – there was a report waiting on my desk. One of the decent detectives yelled, “Oh, there’s a guy who’s downstairs who claims he lost his gun. He’s waiting to be interviewed.”
Naturally, I assumed the report was just filed, and we had time to scan the report and take the interview. After getting myself settled, I looked at the report and lost my damned mind. The report was taken at 5:30am…
The report was taken at the police district’s window downstairs, so the report likely arrived at 5:45am. The overnight shift doesn’t end until 7am, and you mean to tell me not one of these clowns could take a five-minute interview? Seriously??
I didn’t bother asking these lazy asses why no one bothered to do their job, and I gave it to one of our detectives; despite the fact it wasn’t reported on our tour, and there was ample time for one of the overnighters to do so.
About fifteen minutes later, I gathered yesterday’s jobs, and started entering them into the system. As I looked at the job sheet, I realized there were no jobs entered on the overnight shift. In sixteen years here, I have never seen a clean sheet, so I checked the log book. Apparently the overnighters handled eleven jobs, and exactly zero were entered.
What. The. F**k?
Now, I had two options. I could pretend I never saw the omissions and go about my day, or I could find the jobs, look up the information, and enter them into the system. I looked at the jobs for a good ten minutes, and the guilt got to me. I decided to enter the jobs.
You know, there’s something to be said about parents instilling a strong work ethic in their children. There’s also something to be said about Irish-Catholic guilt. It wasn’t my job to enter the other shift’s workload, but if I didn’t enter them, the captain would likely come to me and ask me to enter them anyway.
That’s fine and all, but it would be better if the captain addressed the real problems in the division; specifically, a crop of very lazy detectives.