True Detective Stories

You’re all likely bored with these True Detective Stories, but I thought this specific post was worth the trouble, since it sheds some light on the people who surround me every day.

It was late in the tour Wednesday morning when a police lieutenant called the division and stated one of his top-notch officers was assaulted. The offender was a junkie and a known 302 (aka a mental case) who was walking the streets naked and screaming at random bystanders.

Before you ask, no she was not remotely hittable.

The woman went postal when the officer approached her, and the officer claimed he was “scratched” on his neck and arms, despite the fact our supervisor saw no such marks. (Now, for the record, I would never write an assault on police report if I was scratched, especially if there were no visible marks. But hey, it’s the new police department.) Further, the woman was carrying a belt, and smashed the police cruiser’s windshield with the buckle, as the officer apparently sat there and did nothing…

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True Detective Stories

The first three days of the daywork tour have been a nightmare. We had three detectives on Saturday, four on Sunday, and four on Monday. Monday was more egregious because as I walked in, the previous tour left us with a robbery, a burglary arrest, a stolen gun, and a self-inflicted gunshot wound. So every detective caught a terrible job before 7:30am.

Naturally everyone was pissed, but the worst job of all turned out to be the burglary. The cops were abysmal human failures who took three hours to bring in the report. They then went downstairs to START their paperwork, and that took another half hour. The cops – a male and a female – looked like they were twelve, but definitely had the maturity of six year olds.

When the paperwork was finished, the male came to my desk and just stared at me. Annoyed, I asked, “What do you have, officer?” He replied he had an arrest, which he told me a half hour before. I asked him for the paperwork, and he snidely replied, “I’m getting it all together.” Now, I’m angry.

“All I need is your incident report. Do you have that?” He handed me the report, and I entered it into the system before sending him on his way to his detective. The two dolts recovered a crowbar from the scene, and placed it on a property receipt.

Both cops kept walking back and forth through the building like they had ADHD. The male dealt with the detective and the female just did her own thing. At one point, she was sitting in the lobby with the crowbar. Moments later, I saw she was gone and the crowbar was lying on the floor. A short time later, the bimbo pops back up, walks past the crowbar, and enters the division.

I stopped her and said, “Just a little bit of advice. You may want to stay near the crowbar, since people walk through this area all the time. You know, since it’s EVIDENCE.” She looked at me and said, “Well, it’s just a crowbar.”

I stared at her for a moment, and responded, “It’s also the only evidence linking your defendant with the burglary. But hey, you be you.” I swear, these cops are getting dumber by the day.

1,270 days.