True Detective Stories

So last night was my final day of work in 2021. Christmas vacation begins today, which is great because last night sucked copious amounts of ass.

The day began when an off-duty supervisor decided to drive around the division looking for crimes to solve. Mind you, this dolt was on his day off, but he’s one of those super cops who thinks he’s going to save the world. He was investigating the theft of an ATM from the previous evening, and decided he found one of the people responsible for the theft. There was actually no evidence of this, but hey, since he’s a boss he could just send them to us.

Last night we had five detectives on the floor. Before this supervisor’s shenanigans, we already had a firearms arrest, a domestic assault where a pistol was involved, a stolen gun report, and a commercial robbery. The supervisor wanted us to drop all these actual jobs, and work solely on his nonsense. Thankfully, we avoided that, and one of the detectives interviewed this woman.

After a quick interview, we left the woman in the interrogation room as we waited for the officers to take her back downstairs. When the detective opened the door, the woman had her pants around her ankles, and she urinated all over the floor. While the other detectives were screaming at her for being an animal, my job was to break out the mop.

I mean, if you haven’t mopped up adult urine, have you ever really lived?

In the meantime, Diego the Idiot Detective had the gun-pointing domestic assault. Instead of taking the interview and helping us with the dozens of real jobs we had piling up, he spent his entire evening working on this one insignificant assignment. There wasn’t even any proof there was a gun involved; it was all hearsay. But hey, Diego gonna Diego.

The rest of the evening was a blur. We handled two more firearms arrests, a stolen U-Haul truck which was filled with dozens of computers, a couple domestic incidents and a robbery or two. Most of which were from one district – the worst district in the city – and the district with the dumbest police officers by far. Most of these clowns make Diego look like a MENSA candidate.

Oh well, at least the next two weeks will be fun. No idiot cops, no stupid phone questions, and no Diego.

True Detective Stories

There is a much more entertaining True Detective Stories coming up later today, but this tale of woe needed to take precedence.

I walked into work at 6:30am on Sunday, started entering Saturday’s late jobs, and smiled that there were only three jobs to assign. It was going to be a very good day.

While searching through the unassigned jobs queue, I saw a report from the worst district in the division. They cops who work in this particular district are the worst of the worst. They tape phone conversations when they call the division – a felony in Pennsylvania – they call us and ask stupid questions they should be asking their supervisor, and they take hours to bring in priority reports.

The report I spied was a firearms arrest. This is a priority job, and it needs to be brought to us expeditiously because we need to run a gun trace, swab the firearm for DNA, and obtain a search warrant for the swab. What used to be a one hour arrest is not a three-hour chore…

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True Detective Stories

Occasionally I start these True Detective Stories with something along the lines of, “This doesn’t mean to be a bitch post…”

This post is exclusively a bitch post, so if you don’t feel like reading it, that’s cool.

Yesterday ended my two weeks of night work. As one of the pretty police officers downstairs always says, “Last day, best day.” Sadly, yesterday was nothing of the sort. I walked into the division at 2:40pm, and the floor was a ghost town. There was one detective left from the early shift, which was odd because there are usually a handful of detectives at that time of day.

I didn’t lose my mind about the lack of manpower, because screw them; if they want to run a skeleton crew, that’s on them.

Sadly, it was on us.

My desk was covered with paperwork from the early shift, which usually gets placed into their inbox. The only time we have to handle jobs from a previous shift is when they are priorities. Unluckily for me and my squad, there were three robbery reports on the desk. One of which was taken at 12:25pm, which was two and a half hours before my shift began. Where the f**k were the detectives, and how can they get away with leaving us three robberies which occurred on a different shift?

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True Detective Stories

So yesterday sucked.

Every Thanksgiving, we are always assured there would be someone from the shooting team and someone from domestics. This year? There were no shooting teams, and no domestic detectives.

I walked in and immediately the day work lieutenant approached me, which is never a good sign. He said there was a clusterf*ck coming in from one of the dumber districts. My squad was terribly short – three detectives in all – so manpower was a problem. Apparently, the cop stopped a stolen vehicle, and instead of recovering the vehicle, Super Cop decided to take out the occupants and search them. That’s kind of a no-no, but whatever.

While this genius searched the offenders, he left the key in his vehicle and forgot to put the vehicle into park. The patrol car started rolling, and struck a fire hydrant, causing serious damage.

The officer arrived – three hours after the he stopped the vehicle – and had a gun that he found after searching a juvenile. Again, kind of a no-no. We asked him why it took three f**king hours to being in the job, and he started giving us back-sass. My lieutenant arrived by then, and the cop back-sassed him, too. Not a good plan.

After talking to Super Cop, we found a few more details. The car he stopped was stolen out of Cheltenham, a town just north of Philly. Instead of holding the car, Super Cop called Cheltenham to recover the car, meaning the evidence was now in another jurisdiction. Oh, and did I tell you Super Cop did not initiate the car stop? Two of his coworkers did that, and they left early for Thanksgiving.

So the cops we needed to make a case left for the day, the car was returned to Cheltenham, and Super Cop’s report made no mention of the two arresting officers, the stolen car, and the stolen tag which was on the car that he never recovered.

I’m no detective, but I guarantee this entire case gets tossed at the preliminary hearing.

Oh, by the end of the day, we had this idiotic job, an armed robbery, three missing person reports, a guy who was shot at while driving his car, and many domestic cases. It was the busiest Thanksgiving I have ever worked, because the animals know nothing else.

True Detective Stories

You know, in a little more than a month, I will be “celebrating” twenty-seven years in the police department. In those twenty-seven years, I spent twenty-two in two of the worst, most violent parts of this wretched city. As a result, you would think I have seen everything.

You would be incorrect.

On Wednesday evening, a patrol sergeant called the division and stated they pulled over a driver for the ridiculously unconstitutional – in my opinion – crime of having tinted vehicle windows. Personally, I usually tried to stop vehicles blowing red lights, swerving in and out of traffic, or otherwise committing actual crimes. But I digress.

When the officers approached the vehicle, the defendant refused to roll down the window, or exit his car. Stupefied, these two super cops called a patrol supervisor to give them guidance. (If they had called me, I would have told them to release the guy because their probable cause was bullsh*t.) The supervisor arrived on location, and the defendant still refused to exit the car or roll down the window. The supervisor’s next move was arguably the dumbest thing I have ever heard.

The supervisor declared the scene a barricade.

Obviously, a barricaded person call almost exclusively pertains to an armed person holding up in a residence or a business. They refuse to come out of the structure, and the barricade is announced by the ranking supervisor. In nearly thirty years of policing, I have never ever heard someone call a barricade in a vehicle, because there is no such thing as a barricaded vehicle.

It’s ludicrous to even call a barricade in a car, because you can see exactly what the defendant is doing at all times. But hey, I guess the supervisor wanted to earn a Valor medal or some such nonsense.

This idiot supervisor then declared a staging scene, notified the upper-echelon bosses – who likely laughed all the way to the location – and frantically gave out information over police radio describing how the defendant was still inside the car.

Eventually the defendant’s wife came to the scene and asked him to exit the car – like the South Park “Trapped In A Closet” episode. The supervisor later claimed there was a firearm inside the vehicle, but by that time I didn’t care anymore.

This department is surrounded with people who shouldn’t be allowed to carry a plastic knife, let alone a firearm, and I anxiously await for one of these geniuses to declare a barricade at a hot dog stand.

1,148 days.

True Detective Stories

So, I took off sick Wednesday after a night of no sleep, and another sick day Friday after I was battling a 102 degree fever. I felt better Saturday so I decided to suck it up and go to work. Damn you, embedded work ethic!

I arrived a half hour early – traffic was no existent – and settled down at my desk. Five minutes later, I cursed myself for coming in. Here’s how the day went.

The overnight shift was crazy busy after a six-person shooting in our division. Five people were shot – three are stable and two are critical – and another was killed. I began entering unassigned jobs from the previous day when the first idiot cop walked through the door. The female had a robbery report and had the victim in tow. I reminded her we cannot have victims upstairs because of the Chinese Wuhan Virus protocols, but she didn’t seem to care. Even after reminding this bint it was an order from the Inspector, she declined to comply… because she’s a bint.

The victim was placed into the hallway, and I read this obviously bullsh*t report. The male claimed he was coming home from a night club when two black males approached him, pulled out handguns, and took his Cartier watch, iPhone 12, house and car keys, and assorted jewelry. The victim claimed the total for the amount stolen came to $36,200.

Yeah, okay. I know I always carry $36,000 worth of items when I go to a night club…

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True Detective Stories

This may sound inconceivable to you, but there are people in my department galactically dumber than Diego the Idiot Detective. There is a certain police officer in our worst district makes Diego look like Stephen Hawking. Let me introduce you to Beaky Buzzard.

Beaky is an inept dullard who spends most of his time drooling into his retainer case. He was likely approved because his father was a high-ranking supervisor, and apparently the smarts skip a generation.

Yesterday Beaky handled a domestic assault. The offender was arrested after allegedly holding her life partner inside the residence at the point of a gun. Apparently the offender also fired a round or two out the window, I guess to prove she was serious. The sergeant called for the scene, explained what they had, and I told them to bring up the combatants – and the pistol if it was recovered. The time of the call was 9:30am.

By 10:30am, the officers had brought the victim and the offender to the division. It had been an hour since the call, and I still did not have a police report or the gun. I joked to my sergeant, “I’ll bet Beaky Buzzard has this job.” My sergeant replied, “Oh, please don’t let this be the case.”

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True Detective Stories

While you’ve all read stories featuring Diego The Idiot Detective, the truly demoralizing part of my job is there are a multitude of Diegos in this department.

Yesterday I received a call from the Washtenaw County Sheriff’s Department in Michigan. (No, I never heard of it, either, but it’s apparently near Ann Arbor.) Anyway, a sheriff’s deputy was out on a car stop with what appeared to be a stolen car taken from Philadelphia.

The deputy gave me the information, and I checked the original stolen auto report. The vehicle was a rental car from Enterprise. The renter parked it on the street on October 11th, and he forgot where he parked it on October 12th. Considering the district where it happened, I am sure the renter was drunk at the time.

As I was scrolling through the paperwork, I noticed something both hilarious and infuriating. Apparently, the renter eventually found the vehicle later on October 12th, and reported it to the police district. A conscientious moron police officer took the information and made an auto recovery report.

Unfortunately for the WCSD officer and the renter, the jackass police officer never sent the report to NCIC, which means it was never taken out of stolen status.

Meanwhile, the renter was stopped on the side of the highway, detained by police, for driving a vehicle which was no longer in stolen status. I explained the situation to the sheriff’s deputy, and after laughing at my department’s incompetence, assured me he would let the renter continue on his way.

I called the district in question – arguably the dumbest police station in the city – and told them to submit the report immediately, before this poor sap gets pulled over again.

You know, this department has more than its fair share of self-owns, but this one was completely avoidable, and still the cops couldn’t get it right. Simply infuriating.

(Thanks to Mis.Hum. at AOSHQ for the ONT link!)

True Detective Stories

Saturday night was a nightmare. I walked in a little before three and there were already two shootings – a single and a double. As the night went on, the jobs started pouring in at an alarming rate, and every cop in the division wanted to show off their shiny new arrests.

About three hours into the tour, the sergeant posed an interesting question: “Why the Hell are these cops making dozens of car stops and arresting people for drugs? Every single person you come into contact with increases your chances of catching the coronavirus.”

I sat back for a minute and realized, “Holy crap, he’s right.”

Since the Soros-imposed District Attorney arrived, drugs have been effectively legal in this city – marijuana specifically. Shoplifting is also legal, as long as you keep under the leftist-forced limit. So why, during a viral pandemic, are these morons breaking their backs to make misdemeanor arrests?

Look, if the children want to lock people up, that’s on them, but every one of these toads are brought to my installation and housed here for hours. You dicks may not care of you get sick, but I don’t want to be quarantined for two weeks because some jackass wanted to earn court overtime.

I swear to Vishnu, I work with nothing but halfwits.

True Detective Stories

Yesterday was my first day back to work. I’m on the night shift for two weeks, which means I can sleep late, but it also means I will be crazy busy. The thugs really like shooting people at night.

The short version of this post is I hate my job, I hate people, and I hate computers. The post will bee formatted in bullet points, because I wish I could have fired some bullets last night.

* As I was driving into work, making great time, I spent a good twenty minutes stuck at a red light. The one-lane highway was at a standstill for construction… as 2:30pm… on a f**king weekday. I made it to work on time, but I threw out more than a few sentence enhancers.

* As I approached my desk, the day work sergeant was sitting in my chair. He was trying to fix the computer system, which crashed two days after our new computers arrived. The sergeant fixed the issue, signed me in, and two hours into my shift, the system crashed again. The crash meant I couldn’t do my job, so I had to enter them into the archaic system. I will also have to re-enter the jobs today into the new system. Because God hates me.

* By 7pm, we handled four robberies, all from the same district. Sure, the cops there can easily arrest people for drugs and shoplifting, but robberies? Nah brah, they’re too busy for that.

* An officer called and said he had a shoplifting job. Then he said he thinks it’s a robbery. A few moments later he says it’s an aggravated assault. I asked this dolt if he had a supervisor out there and he replied, “No, I figured you’d tell me what to do.” I did my best to not tell him to step in front of a train.

This job, in this city, is absolutely soul crushing.