Dumb-Asses and Just Plain Asses

Dumb-Asses:

The swishy little manager of the City Pool called us the other day to have us throw out a bunch of people who were using "profound language." Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, it wasn't my call, so I couldn't ask, "What's the crime here?"

Got a call about a lady trying to make a left turn. She was sitting in the turn lane, just before a light. Another vehicle, a truck pulling a trailer, got in the turn lane going the other direction. He couldn't safely back up. They were at an impasse. The driver of the car had had multiple opportunities to make her turn. She told Dispatch that she wouldn't go because the other vehicle was just trying to intimidate her. She then called her mother, who in turn called us to tell us that the other vehicle had a Confederate flag on it. I get out there, see a truck full of Hispanics, no Confederate battle emblems anywhere, just the Virgin Mary. I had to stop traffic so this lady could make her turn.

Today, I got a call of vandalism to a vehicle. The complainant said that within the previous hour, someone scratched her car and used touch up paint on it, which was dry when I got there. They also switched her right front tire, and her right back tire. Sometimes it's easier to get the information and write a report than to convince a nut why you shouldn't have to.

Just Plain Asses:

I received an e-mail from the Sergeant in charge of our Crime Suppression Unit, telling me that I would be participating in a search warrant at a crack-house on Thursday. No big deal. They wanted me there because there are generally a lot of females at the crack house. Again, no big deal. So they tell me to drive the paddy wagon. I know where I stand in the hierarchy, and I do what I am told.

So we get out there. The entry team secures the house and puts two people in the paddy wagon. Another two are arrested later. They send the entry team back to the street or home, depending on their duty status. So they've got four under arrest. While they are searching the residence, I stand outside watching the subjects. Search the females. Search another female who drove by - drunk - and was arrested in front of the house.

They finally get done, three hours later. We're fixin' to leave the scene, and I comment to the guys, "I would kill for a bottle of water right now." I get in the paddy wagon to take the subjects to "35" for some paperwork, before I transport them to the county jail. The Crime Suppression Unit loads into a Crown Vic, and pull out right behind me. I get to "35" and wait. And wait. And wait some more. They finally pull up, pile out of the car with 32 oz. Cokes from the Quik Trip. And not one thing for me. Asses!

THEN... I get to the jail with the subjects, right around my regular going-home time. While they are processing one of the arrestees, they find a joint in his wallet. So I call the Sergeant to tell him so he can bring more charges. He tells me, "Leave it in the Paddy Wagon. We'll handle it when we get done eating." They didn't EVEN invite me to go eat with them! While I handle their crap.

My fortune at Panda Express the other day: "You will have many friends when you need them." They obviously didn't mean the Crime Suppression Unit.