Tuesday, March 7, 2017
The Art of The Deal
Sometimes the cops get called to the MOST ridiculous calls in all The Land. These calls often remind us that many young folks have no coping skills nor can they fend for themselves and mommy and daddy did everything for them. Enter...the PoPo...everyone's parents. Just make a complaint to dispatch and we come...24/7. We give out free advice, we coddle. We don't hug. You will have to trot over to the fire department for hugs.
The good, bad, and the ugly about my communications skills is that I can really talk however I feel is appropriate to my audience ("It was a good idea at the time, Sarge.") and I never received complaints. Was it because I was a girl? I don't know. Maybe it was because I could do it with style. I chose when the "f" bomb came out and when it was contained. Sometimes it is the only form of communication which is universally understood. Most of my police contacts were handled in the utmost diplomatic manner with emotional intelligence and sound resolutions.
But I worked in the hood often and it was the language of my people. So it got used. You know, it was how we talked to each other. No holds barred.
I know. My mother would not have approved. So let me link you to a very well written article about eloquence. Read it. Remember it. Learn it. Use it. Live by it.
Eloquence would be lacking in my post today because this call caught me on a day where emergencies were abundant and the city fell to about 20 WTFs an hour. But we should be above slippage into the language sludggery. (That is a word) It's our reputation. Mine was well know in the city. So, in all good conscious I must say don't do as I say...do as I do? No. That's not right. You should use this on your list of "DON'TS". Read this and refresh...remind yourselves why it is important to speak diplomatically with some intelligence and not stray too low in the gutter or find yourself at street level. I mean, come on. We are professionals.
So...anyway...back to calls which should never be reported to the police department in any shape or form.
I was called to the lobby of the police department for a sinister report of "stolen property."
DOUGIE: Hi, officer. I called you here because my ex-girlfriend won't give me my W2s and she is holding them hostage because she says I have her hair clippers.
ME: Are you fucking kidding me?
DOUGIE: No. She is a royal bitch.
ME: I mean are you fucking kidding me you are calling me here to retrieve your flipping W2s? You are wasting the People's time and money for that?
DOUGIE: Yes. I need them.
ME: GO TO YOUR EMPLOYER AND TELL THEM THEY ARE LOST AND GET NEW COPIES!
DOUGIE: Oh. I didn't know you could do that. [not even realizing what a waste of taxpayers time he is taking or that police are usually called for emergency problems...I mean...that is the "model" of our purpose, but it has been reduced to tax issues]
ME: Get your girlfriend on the phone.
So...he dials her up. And she answers screaming. Why? Because Dougie was calling her, not this brash PoPo lady at the other end about to stop the insanity.
ME: This is Officer Fargo with the Gotham City Police Department. Do you have Dougie's W2s?
ME: Bring Dougie's W2s to the police station. Now.
Yep. It was my mother voice.
SHERRIE: I told him I would do things on my time and my schedule. So..I am not available until next Friday...and frankly...
ME: LISTEN, SHERRIE! Let me interrupt you before you get stupider. And THAT is a word. You are on MY time. This is a waste of MY time. I hope your idiotic bullshit doesn't cause a poor innocent child to be killed today because you are a piece of work. Bring me Dougie's fucking W2s now! Do it! If you aren't here in 15 minutes, I will make a complaint with the IRS and they will audit your colon. Do you understand me?
SHERRIE: Yes, mam.
Then...I hung up, handed Dougie the phone.
ME: I feel much better now. Thank you for making my day.
ME: She will be here in 15 minutes.
DOUGIE: Thank you, Officer.
ME: Yep. You need to get rid of that one. She is crazy as hell.
DOUGIE: Yes, mam.
ME: I know this is true, Dougie. Crazy sees and knows other crazy.
DOUGIE: Are you ok?
ME: Yep. I feel rejuvenated.
DOUGIE: Ok. Your face is red, that's why I was asking.
ME: Yep. Copwork sometimes is just like getting a facial. Exfoliation. Face gets red...the blood is flowing. Skin glows. Everyone should try cop work.
Yes. Sherrie was there in 14 minutes. Problem solved.