Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Something Is Amiss

Recently, one of my colleagues told me about an opening for a dispatcher at a local police department. Now, bless his heart, he was trying to help. First, out here...they get zero pay, work crappy shifts, have terrible vacation and sick time accrual, double as security at events, issue trespass notifications, and fill in for the entire county dispatch center as only a 911 call taker. Second, most citizens don't know that cops can't be dispatchers. Why? Well, they suck. It's a hard job. But most importantly, we can't stand it. I want to be on the other end. It gives me anxiety. Plus, if I was dispatching a boob cop to a call, I would want to come through the radio and beat his or her ass. It all adds up to impossible job matching. I was greeted with deer in the headlight looks. It may very well be an issue only cops and dispatchers can understand. We are both passionate about it.

I have also been asked if I miss the job. I do. Daily. I miss the roar of a Hemi when you put your foot in it to jam across town at night to a hot call or run code. I miss turning on two wheels. I miss going 140 mph on the interstate. I miss going slow at night with my window down and my rap on low, eye balling every inch of your neighborhood for criminal activity or something amiss.  I miss the song of my people in the ghetto. I miss sliding to a stop and exiting gracefully, making a grand entrance with command presence. I miss the kids who looked up to me and beamed with hope that the good guys were there to save the day. I miss my old people who made efforts to chat when I was patrolling their neighborhood as I strolled by on a mid-day walk. I miss the smell of fall in Wyoming and crisp mornings where that one moment in time the city was at peace. I miss the camaraderie, the blue bond, and the trust that if shit goes bad ten fast ten hurry, we have each other's backs. I miss the sick humor. I miss laughing at the craziest crap in America. I miss fucking up at the range and getting scolded by my sergeant. I miss asking forgiveness instead of permission. I miss giving a kiddo 5-10 bucks for a 50 cent glass of the best pucker lemonade. I miss jousting in the park and sledding in the winter hoping I don't wipe out some nice kid in the process. Most of all, I miss standing tall in a well pressed uniform and problem solving even the dumbest shit.

But, times have changed where administrations do not support or provide for their troops. It's dog eat dog. The public eats cops for lunch and even the steadfast seem to waiver in their support. Thank God for the die hard cop lovers.  I don't know how cops today hack it without losing their shit at times when the nonsense goes down. One thing society forgets is most cops eat their own when they are corrupt. They don't like bad cops either.

And they are tired. Tired of being the whipping boy. Let's move on, shall we?

So, yes, I miss some of those things, but no, I will not go back. My prime time is over.

And no, I will not be a dispatcher because you get in big bad trouble if you say fuck over the radio.


Allenspark Lodge said...

Maybe you could get a position at the airport groping passengers as they board.

"Is that a fuse in your undies, or are you just glad to be here?"


Slamdunk said...

Yes, you'd make a super high dollar private investigator. Dispatcher and call-taker is tough for former police.

When I was training, they sent me for a 10 day stint over to our 911 call center. I saw how difficult that job was--all of the multi-tasking, officers and the public mad at them, and hearing the emergencies unfold and not being able to do anything about it--I was happy to get back in patrol. I did warn my training buddies not to escort the call center dispatchers over to any of the local fast food restaurants to "pick-up" meal orders. Wow, I thought I was going to have to call for back-up when at 3 am on a Saturday morning, we stopped at Wendy's to collect an order of like 35 hamburgers, french fries and drinks. Needless to say the people in line behind us were pissed.

Old NFO said...

Yep, time to move on. You did your job well, but you wouldn't do well on the OTHER side of the mic...

Well Seasoned Fool said...

Have a cousin who spent 10 years as a dispatcher. Says she will never work that job again.

Bob G. said...

Momma Fargo:

Hey, if you get the "blues", I'm available for a "pat-down"...lol.
I'll even let you "Mirandize" me
Or, you can clean my clock at a pistol range.

All kidding aside (sorta-kinda)...yeah, there are LOTS of things that are missed, but do you miss all the THESE?:
--Hours of report-writing?
--The aggravation?
--Hosing puke and other assorted bodily fluids from the backseat of the g-ride?
--Sweating through kevlar mid-summer?
--Dealing with bottom-feeders?

I'm sure there's loads more, which serve as a reminder that none of us should forget what the thin blue line has to deal with every...single...day...
ONE good thing tends to wipe out TEN of the nasty things, though.

Very good post.

Roll safe down there, dear.

MrGarabaldi said...

Hey Momma Fargo,

The times of being a cop is much different than when you started. Back then the "Law and Order" still held sway against the mob...Now it is "Pander and incite" to the mob. It just shows that the fabric of our country is breaking down and I fear for what will come and replace it.

Leslie Lim said...

Wow. Awesome article. Please do more articles like this in the future. Very informational and knowledgeable. I will expect more from you in the future. For now i will just bookmark your page and surely I'm gonna come back later to read more. Thank you to the writer!


sarah lee said...

I really enjoyed reading your article. I found this as an informative and interesting post, so i think it is very useful and knowledgeable. I would like to thank you for the effort you have made in writing this article.