Cops =/= Kosher
Okay, it's not that I vindicate what I perceive to be the culture of de facto dislike for the police. I have an aunt and cousin out in the suburbs not far from here who talk a lotta trash on the dudes in blue, and I listen and smirk a little because I kind of suspect that most of their smack isn't from personal experience. So it's not like that.
I, on the other hand, have had my fair share of interaction with the police. Sometimes a cop leaves a decent impression, sometimes they just scream "I long ago became disenchanted with this line of work and now just do it for getting off on the control," in which case you wish them a bad encounter with a beligerent with a weapon *shrug* Just how it goes.
Anyway, I got back to my neighborhood from the Faire last night around, let's say 8:30. By all intents and purposes, I would have been home, showered, and unpacking things (including food items in a cooler) by around 9. Except that some guy shot and killed another guy in the apartment building two doors down, so the blocks on my street from Harrisson to Charlotte were blockaded off, lots of cop cars, ambulances, a news van or two. I can't drive up to my house because it's right in the middle of this yellow tape crap.
So fine. I pull off on the side down Charlotte, call around some of my friends seeing if there's anyplace I could loiter for a few hours while all these guys do their thing. I cannot fault anyone for not answering, given that it was like 8:45 on a Sunday night. So I sit tight and see if I can get a feeler for how long this is going to take.
- I will mention that had it not been a Sunday, and had I not still been in many layers of Faire garb (it having been chilly and damp all weekend), I probably would have just gone to a bar or something. I had books, I could have a drink or two and read for a few hours and be content. But it was Sunday and I wasn't sure of the hours of the nearby dive bars, and there was no way I was going to manuever myself into a change of clothes in a fully packed car.
Anyway, I wound up reading about 2/3 of Poppy Z.'s Triads by streetlight in my car. So by now it's nearly 11 at night and that damn yellow tape's still up. Ambulances are long gone, so are both the news vans. I saw the cops lift up the tape for what appeared to be a minivan without any copmobile traits on it, so I thought maybe if I drove down the block then looked back over on a side street, maybe I could finnagle my way into my drive.
Failed. But, the cop van blocking the side street was manned, so I went up and explained that I had waited on them for over two hours and wondered when I would be able to return to my home. I was told it was still a closed homicide investigation site, but an officer could walk me to my house. I said Fine, unpacked my duffel and a little carry bag, and walked with two cops who looked like the stereotypical pink blank-faced white guy, half-way back to my house.
Yeah, they didn't even escort me the full walk back to my house. Seems like if it wasn't that tight an issue, they could have lifted up that damn yellow damn and watched me park my car and go inside. I had to walk back down this morning to grab it so I could bring in and unload my cooler, I haven't even unloaded the bedding and stuff yet. I wouldn't have had anything to sleep on last night were it not for a blanket left behind in my chest; everything else is either in my car or out at the Faire site this time of year.
I mentioned whiel I was still walking with them that I'd heard a man was shot. (One of the newscasters said so while he and his associate were shooting footage and talking to some people.) One of the guys had the condescending nerve to reply with, "You could say that."
Sorry, but when I come home at 8:30 and it's nearly 11:30 before I'm allowed to enter my house, while by then most of the uniforms are just standing around awkwardly, picking at themselves, I can say whatever I damn well please.
Something's just not kosher with most cops I run into, no pun intended *eyeroll*
I, on the other hand, have had my fair share of interaction with the police. Sometimes a cop leaves a decent impression, sometimes they just scream "I long ago became disenchanted with this line of work and now just do it for getting off on the control," in which case you wish them a bad encounter with a beligerent with a weapon *shrug* Just how it goes.
Anyway, I got back to my neighborhood from the Faire last night around, let's say 8:30. By all intents and purposes, I would have been home, showered, and unpacking things (including food items in a cooler) by around 9. Except that some guy shot and killed another guy in the apartment building two doors down, so the blocks on my street from Harrisson to Charlotte were blockaded off, lots of cop cars, ambulances, a news van or two. I can't drive up to my house because it's right in the middle of this yellow tape crap.
So fine. I pull off on the side down Charlotte, call around some of my friends seeing if there's anyplace I could loiter for a few hours while all these guys do their thing. I cannot fault anyone for not answering, given that it was like 8:45 on a Sunday night. So I sit tight and see if I can get a feeler for how long this is going to take.
- I will mention that had it not been a Sunday, and had I not still been in many layers of Faire garb (it having been chilly and damp all weekend), I probably would have just gone to a bar or something. I had books, I could have a drink or two and read for a few hours and be content. But it was Sunday and I wasn't sure of the hours of the nearby dive bars, and there was no way I was going to manuever myself into a change of clothes in a fully packed car.
Anyway, I wound up reading about 2/3 of Poppy Z.'s Triads by streetlight in my car. So by now it's nearly 11 at night and that damn yellow tape's still up. Ambulances are long gone, so are both the news vans. I saw the cops lift up the tape for what appeared to be a minivan without any copmobile traits on it, so I thought maybe if I drove down the block then looked back over on a side street, maybe I could finnagle my way into my drive.
Failed. But, the cop van blocking the side street was manned, so I went up and explained that I had waited on them for over two hours and wondered when I would be able to return to my home. I was told it was still a closed homicide investigation site, but an officer could walk me to my house. I said Fine, unpacked my duffel and a little carry bag, and walked with two cops who looked like the stereotypical pink blank-faced white guy, half-way back to my house.
Yeah, they didn't even escort me the full walk back to my house. Seems like if it wasn't that tight an issue, they could have lifted up that damn yellow damn and watched me park my car and go inside. I had to walk back down this morning to grab it so I could bring in and unload my cooler, I haven't even unloaded the bedding and stuff yet. I wouldn't have had anything to sleep on last night were it not for a blanket left behind in my chest; everything else is either in my car or out at the Faire site this time of year.
I mentioned whiel I was still walking with them that I'd heard a man was shot. (One of the newscasters said so while he and his associate were shooting footage and talking to some people.) One of the guys had the condescending nerve to reply with, "You could say that."
Sorry, but when I come home at 8:30 and it's nearly 11:30 before I'm allowed to enter my house, while by then most of the uniforms are just standing around awkwardly, picking at themselves, I can say whatever I damn well please.
Something's just not kosher with most cops I run into, no pun intended *eyeroll*