ME,
THE LOUSY COP
Me, the Lousy Cop
Well Mr. Citizen, I guess you
have figured me out. I seem to fit neatly into the category you place me
in. I'm stereotyped, characterized, standardized, classified, grouped, and
always typical. I'm the "lousy" cop.
Unfortunately, the reverse
isn't true. I can never figure you out.
From birth you teach your
children that I am a person to be wary of...and then you're shocked when
they identify me with my traditional enemy, the criminal.
You accuse me of coddling
juvenile criminals, until I catch your kid doing something.
You may take an hour for lunch
and several coffee breaks each day, but point me out as a loafer if you
see me having just one cup.
You pride yourself on your
polished manners, but think nothing of interrupting my meals with your
troubles.
You raise hell about the guy
who cuts you off in traffic, but let me catch you doing the same thing and
I'm picking on you.
You know all the traffic laws,
but never got one ticket you deserved.
You shout "Foul!" if you
observe me driving fast enroute to an emergency call, but literally raise
hell if I take more than ten seconds responding to your call.
You call it "part of my job"
if someone strikes me. But its "police brutality" if I strike back.
You wouldn't think of telling
your dentist how to pull a badly decayed tooth, or your doctor how to take
out your appendix, but you are always willing to give me pointers on law
enforcement.
You talk to me in a manner and
use language that would assure a bloody nose from anyone else, but you
expect me to stand there and take it without batting an eye.
You cry, "Something has to be
done about all the crime!" but you can't be bothered with getting
involved.
You've got no use for me at
all, but, of course, it's OK if I change a tire for your wife, deliver
your baby in the back seat of my patrol car on the way to the hospital,
save your son's life with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or work many hours
overtime to find your lost daughter.
So, Dear Citizen, you stand
there on your soapbox and rant and rave about the way I do my job, calling
me every name in the book, but never stop a minute to think that your
property, your family, or maybe your life might depend on one thing - me,
or one of my buddies.
Yes, me, the lousy cop.
- Author unknown
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