"That was a hot mess, inside a dumpster fire, inside a train wreck" -OR- 2020 so far

Thanks to Jake Tapper for the perfect quote to describe not only the recent "presidential debate," but most of this year. Let's see, where to start... Mom & I both got sick in the early part of the year. I had my quarterly ear/nose/throat infection; she had an assortment of colds & diabetic incidents. And what we thought was a heart attack. Dr A (the family cardiologist) says it was a warning, and he's glad that *I* insisted she go see him. Turns out that she had several blockages and wound up needing a stent. (Daddy all over again...oy) This involved her being hospitalized for several days while they tried to get it placed without doing too much damage to her kidneys. (something to do with the contrast dye that they use) Dr A promised me he wasn't going to see me an orphan anytime soon. Everything turned out ok. I got the joys of a colonoscopy in February, and a colossal fight with Mom coming & going to the appointment. We absolutely should not be in a car together, EVER. At least not if SHE'S driving. Breonna Taylor was accidentally killed during the serving of a search warrant- more on that in a minute. COVID-19! ARRRRRGH! Actually, the only real change it made in my life was a distinct lack of library & bookstore visits. Amazon, however, really LOVES me now. So does Grubhub. Mask wearing is a bit of an issue. Remember that problem I had with the hospital masks? Yeah. After passing out several times due to panic attacks, my sort-of-BF bought me some tie dyed bandanas. Followed by neck gaiters in various colors & patterns. They still cause SOME issues, but I'm good for about 30 minutes, which makes grocery shopping quick! Boo is still sweet & cuddly. George Floyd was murdered by a police officer & all hell broke loose in the US. Then a shyster lawyer dug up Breonna Taylor's case and convinced her family to help stir up more shit. Louisville is in month 5 of riots/protests/looting. I could write a book on this subject alone, but I'm going to just say FUCK ALL THAT SHIT and move on. What else? Had the usual wretched birthday. Sent Mom to Iowa for 2 weeks. Was reminded how much I miss living alone. I love her, I just hate living with her! The anus-mouthed Cheeto-in-chief who said Covid-19 wasn't a serious issue & a cure for it will be ready before the election, now has it. Bwahahahaha Trying to post from my my phone is getting to me, so I'll try on the tablet later.

I think I'm back...

My tablet died, so I had to get a new one. The new model is considerably bigger, and consequently easier to type on. I'm going to try to resume semi-regular blogging... we'll see how I do.

I had to sign back into Facebook to save my progress on a few games. I took a brief glance at the first few items on my news feed, went "Nope" and will be deactivating the page again. I've been happier without it, although I *do* miss the interaction with a few friends & family members.

Still battling the fatigue issues, but my health is otherwise tolerably good. In an effort to be more active, I have started volunteering as a role player for training exercises at the police academy. THAT has been a freaking hoot! Most of the recruits are wet behind the ears kids, and the handful of older ones with some life experience still aren't prepared to deal with someone like me. One scenario I was in had me & another girl (who was almost as big as me) in a domestic issue where the ex-wife & new girlfriend started fighting when hubby tried to pick up the kids. She & I were having fun slinging furniture & throwing mock punches. The kids sent to stop us were both around 5'2-5'4 and probably less that 150 lbs each. The slightly taller of the two pushed his partner toward us, said "you deal with that while I talk to this dude." Little guy shrieked, "who, me?!?" We stopped fighting each other, turned & gave him evil smiles, and started his way. The assessor finally managed to stop laughing long enough to call a halt to the scene once it was clear that the kid was either going to wet himself or run, possibly both.

Another day saw me in a loud party scenario. I was paired up with Officer E, who is also a big girl, and another civilian. The kids were "dispatched" in groups of 3 this time, not that it did them much good. All 3 of us escaped custody, they usually didn't find the drugs & weapons hidden on us, and the piece de resistance was the final group. We were in a second floor room for this exercise, and had been heckling a group that was below us outside. (The training staff were in hysterics by the end of the day because E & I were being total heathens) We got what turned out to be our last group. As they burst into the "party" (which they did incorrectly) & turned our music off, I was hit with inspiration. I went a couple of rounds of music off/on with the little guy closest to me (seriously, most of this class is 5'2-5'8) and then freaked him out. I screamed, "oh, snap, someone sent us a police strip-o-gram! Get them clothes off, baby!" E immediately caught on & followed suit. (Our 3rd comrade & the assessor were both laughing too hard to do anything) We started grinding on those boys and tugging at their uniforms. THEY panicked. In the middle of all this, I grabbed my guy's gun (not a euphemism, his actual mock weapon. Thankfully they weren't given real guns & tasers for these exercises) and ran to the window, tossing it out the the scenario out below us, allowing all hell to break loose in that one too. The trainers called time on us at that point.

We went downstairs to return our stuff to the prop boxes & join the session debriefing. Then I hear the Lt. say, "wait, that's not a prop, that's a recruit's gun!" followed by a bellow of "which one of you damn fools got disarmed and who did it?!?" The kid reluctantly confessed & pointed at me. Lt. M gave him quite an earful about it. He also dropped by my office that night to tell me that they'd watched the body camera footage of all the incidents (they didn't tell US that those damn things were live... oops) and had been laughing themselves sick for 8 hours. Especially at the last scene. "We never knew you were so good at being bad!"

I'm really hoping that footage never leaves the academy, but I suspect it's making its way around the department.

Life goes on...

I'm still here. Still posting (or not, as you've seen) from my tablet, so this will be brief.

1. Removing myself from Facebook was one of the smartest things I have done in a long time. I miss the contact with quite a few of my friends, but it has lowered my stress levels considerably. I may resume at the end of the year, but will be leaving the remainder of my fangirl groups as not being obsessed is working well for me. Also, I gave gotten a LOT more reading done.

2. Was anyone surprised that the British Twit & the Toxic Twat didn't make it past the end of the summer? No, I haven't renewed my interest in him, but the breakup story was everywhere. I did, however, laugh my ass off.

3. New love of my life. One of the younger grey cats in the feral colony has a kitten. She is the most adorable little thing! She's so cute when I see her tumbling around in the yard. I am able to pet her & pick her up- Mama knows I'm friendly- but I don't do it too long so that she & Mama won't get nervous. I'm hoping to bring one or both of them indoors once she's a little bigger. Not sure how Shady & Boo will feel about it.

4. Guess this should have been #3. Remy got out after my last post. He'd escaped once before & it took me nearly 2 weeks to find him. It only took 2 days this time. I went straight to the neighbor whose yard I found him in last time. Sure enough, he was lolling in their window. I rang the bell & we talked about it. They begged to keep him. He & Boo had never been separated before his first escape, but they both seemed to be quite happy apart. In fact, Boo beat the hell out of him when I brought him home the first time, and was quite nasty for several days. So I let them keep him on the condition that he gets returned to me if something happens & they gave to give him up. In the meantime, Boo has turned into quite a cuddlebug.

5. In a moment of insanity, I agreed to drive my parents to NC again for Dad's birthday. And once again had to sic the union on my bosses to get a freaking Friday off. You'd think they'd learn after the last *3* times, but nooooooo... The Major that the union rep talked to was disgusted. "She's asked for 3 Fridays in the last year and a half and they think *that's* unreasonable?!? And she's had to file a grievance each time?" I'm sure it's a coincidence that the Hamster is suddenly being sent to management training classes, but it does make you wonder...

OK, this was more than I meant to type & I'm getting a headache squinting at this thing. More later.

The New Kids At Work Aren't Getting Any Smarter

The following conversation took place a few days ago:

Conversation with me and Officer Dimwit

Me: What do you have?

OD: *deer in the headlights look*

M: *slowly* What. Do. You. Have?

OD: (clutching citation & duffle bag) Um, a bag?

M: (resisting urge to slap him) Is it evidence or personal property?

OD: Ummmmm

M: You have to pick one.

OD: *hesitantly* Well, they wouldn’t take it at the jail…

M: So, it’s personal property then?

OD: Ummm, no it’s for safekeeping.

M: *barely resisting the urge to facepalm in front of him* Yes, that’s what personal property means.

OD: *blank look*

M: Does it contain any food, money, or medication?

OD: *blank look*

M: *repeats question*

OD: Ummm, no there’s no food or money.

M: What about medication?

OD: *Another blank look*

M: *wearily* Dude, work with me. Is there any medication in the bag?

OD: *suddenly brightly* Oh, you mean drugs?!?

M: *weeping silently inside my head* Yes. Got any?!?

OD: Um, gee, I don’t think so…

We repeated this process when I asked about electronics like cell phones or e-readers. It took 20 minutes just to get that much out of him. Then I had to all but beg for the citation. He had a death grip on the bag and the paperwork and it was like he wasn’t actually going to give me either of them.

Where are they getting these people?!?

How I feel at work most nights

Yep, it's Derby Time again...

I'm out here at the track as the mobile property clerk. I had to come in at 7 this morning, which was NOT pretty!

Anyway, to keep myself entertained, I've come up with a Fashion Victim Bingo chart. We'll see how many I've checked off by the end of the day.

1. Man in seersucker suit with visible underwear lines.

2. Man in seersucker suit with lack of underwear clearly visible.

3. Woman with skirt that could double for headband.

4. Woman with more material in her hat than in her entire outfit.

5. Group of frat boy types in coordinating ugly plaid shorts.

6. Woman wearing heels too high with skirt too short.

7. Anyone wearing ugly novelty hat.

8. Drunk guy without pants. (Seriously, I have seen this. They usually lose them fighting in the infield)

9. Couple who have taken the matchy matchy look WAY too far.

10. Trifecta- woman in hat too big, heels too tall, dress that provides inadequate coverage on both ends.

Chech back later to see how I did!z

Catching up

So, my heart was broken last week when Leonard Nimoy passed away. There will be a longer post about that when I can write it without crying.

Dr. M says my thyroid tumor is still benign, so he wants to go ahead and give it another year. Easy for him- he doesn't have to make the copays for the ultrasounds & biopsies!

Dad surprised me when we went out to dinner last Sunday. I was waiting for him & Mom to get to the restaurant and heard a cough. I looked up and there he was walking to the table WITHOUT his walker! He's been practicing at home and is getting about fairly well, although he still uses it when the weather is bad or we're going somewhere crowded, just for the extra stability. Mom offered him her arm when we were leaving and he shook her off and fairly STRUTTED out of the place.


And the bloody snow is back. We got over a foot last night. The boss had to pick me up again because Sunshine once again pre-empted the day off.

That's about it for now. I'm mailing my Mug of Comfort exchange package out tomorrow (IF I can get my car dug out and get to the post office) and looking forward to assembling it tonight. I hope Melissa likes it! I've also got a mystery stash box to mail to the next person in the stitch exchange group I'm in and 2 packages of Red Velvet Oreos going to a friend in England. And two "Just because" presents going to friends in CA & Ontario. The post office loves me- I don't know how they can go broke with all the shipping I do!

Damn Fools.

I swear, one of these days I'm going to learn not to work double shifts! Anyway, here's the highlight of my night so far:

Division beat officers had to serve mental inquest warrant on an elderly Bosnian lady who barely speaks English. When they got her to the hospital, the staff discovered a grocery bag in her purse that was stuffed with money…which they refused to be responsible for. Instead of taking back to her home or giving it to her social worker, they brought it here for safekeeping.

Mentally ill or not, that woman needed a whack upside the head. So did her damn social worker. I counted 86,740 frikking dollars in that bag! The officer who brought it down kept apologizing- her beat partner was too chickenshit to come down with it and pawned it off on her. She had NO idea it was that much.

That was 7:30-8:00. Around midnight, the jackass who sent it down called and wanted to know if he could come get it out and take it back to the social worker & husband who were worried about where it was. I called that fool every damned thing I could think of and may have invented a few new words.

I don't love my job anymore, but I *DO* need the flipping insurance...

This is what happens when I work a double shift and the office is TOO DAMN HOT

So, around the beginning of the shift, I posted on Facebook that the office was too hot and if it didn't start cooling off, I was taking off my pants. (I did NOT mention the shorts I had in my car to change into)

The responses to that ranged from "Whoo-hoo!" (thank you, Martin) to "Pictures or we don't believe you." (Be careful what you ask for)

About 3 hours later the temperature had actually RISEN 3 degrees, so the jeans came off. The shorts went on, and to amuse my friends, I took and posted a picture of my legs propped up on the desk. (From mid-thigh down so it looks like I'm running around the office in my underwear)

About 30 seconds after I posted it, my cell phone started ringing, the office phone started ringing, and my FB feed went nuts. The smarter of my friends figured it out, but still thought it was hysterically funny, especially as I've been in a very down cycle lately.
The more obnoxious of my officer friends started calling people and telling them to look at it. I've also been informed that a van load of guys on a stakeout nearly blew their cover when one found it and screamed "Holy shit, Mickey has lost her motherf'ing mind and is getting nekkid in the property room!!!" Amusingly enough, HIS SGT. was one of the first people to respond online.

So, if nothing else, I have at least had some fun tonight and made it go by a little quicker. And I'm sure I'll get an earful from my bosses on Monday...except for the one on my friends list who is probably choking on his beer.

If I ever figure out how to add photos to my blog, I'll share that shot. :-)

Odds and Bobs for the week

Our Lt is transferring to another office. One of the possibilities for his replacement is someone I've worked with before and get along with very well. Hoping he gets it.

Our Sgt is 4th on the promotions list for Lt and will probably be gone by the end of the year. *happydancing*

My cats have apparently decided that they'd rather live outside. Yes, both of them. I give up.

The family reunion in the swamp is next week. Not looking forward to it.

Dad's heart surgery is being scheduled for the end of July. The doctors are VERY encouraging about it.

I have a date Saturday night. Not sure how that happened. We'll see what happens.

First "Dear Officer" post of the year!

Not that I haven't had plenty of fodder for one sooner than this, but I'm doing batches of disposals again and coming across the same stupid spelling errors. I realize that our officers have a LOT of stuff that they're supposed to try to remember, but basic spelling should NOT be a problem. Also, some of my coworkers may be to blame, but we'll just blame the kids in blue for now.


Dear Officer,


Let's play a spelling game!

Steroids come in:

A. a vial
b. a vile
c. a veil
d. a viel

You inject them with:

A. a needle
b. a neddle
c. a needel
d. a neidle

Those lovely little pills that are often abused but are supposed to tranquilize your mood are called:

A. Xanax
b. zanax
c. zanix
d. xannix

Security camera footage is also known as:

A. surveillance
b. survailance
c. survellance
d. surveylance


That illicitly traded pain killer is called:

A. Lortab
b. loratab
c. loritab
d. luratab

Another word for money is:

A. Currency
b. curenncy
c. cureincy
d. currincy


If you answered anything other than A to any of these questions, please report to the nearest elementary school for Basic Spelling classes. Thank you.

February in My Office in a Nutshell

Freaks

Freezing

Fire

Flood

Frying

Falling concrete


Sadly, I am not making ANY of this up.

Still here...sort of

The last few months have been filled with drama & trauma, but things seem to be levelling out again. I hope to resume blogging regularly. A short list of what's been going on:

1. Dad's 80th birthday party trip.

2. Iowa family gathering

3. I was hospitalized twice due to blood pressure issues (not fun)

4. The usual work drama, only I didn't get blamed for everything for a change and someone else got into serious trouble. (HAH!)

5. I played Candy Crush so obsessively that I reached the final (as of now) level and am dying of impatience as I wait for them to create more.


I've also read a ton of books that need to be reviewed and done a little cross-stitching.

More soon, I hope!

The Dear Officer Files

Dear Officer:

I see it's time to remind some of you morons of the following:

1. YES, you need a report number for anything you deposit with us. It is not our fault if you are not smart enough to tell Dispatch that you need a number for found or personal property, it doesn't get marked, and Reports harrasses you for the next six months.

2. DO NOT attempt to hand me a needle that is not in a safety tube. Should you manage to do it without sticking me, I will still break a foot off in your ass.

3. PLEASE tell us if ANYTHING you are handing us is sticky/has blood on it/anything you would not want your sister/wife/daughter touching with their bare hands. It is not funny to us and watching you laugh at our disgusted/panicked reactions when we've been exposed to god-knows-what is not going to help the situation.

4. DO NOT bring in something oversized/heavy and think you're going to waltz out without helping us move it to a storage location.

5. If you are a repeat offender for any of the things above or other issues named in previous "Dear Officer" letters, don't ask us why we're never happy when you come in. We'll tell you.


Disgustedly,

The Angry Amazon

Close Encounters of the Moldy Kind

So, at the beginning of July, they tried to kill me at work. 

It was a Thursday night that I was working alone and had been extremely busy. Then the 1st division Flex squad showed up with a search warrant. Warrants are fiddly, time-consuming, and usually a colossal pain in the ass because they collect everything they can get their hands on ESPECIALLY if it's a drug case...we've had furniture brought in because it "was probably bought with drug money."

This wasn't too bad as search warrants go...until I got to the money. I knew something wasn't right as soon as I touched it. A wave of sour, stale moldiness wafted up to assault my nose and the money was damp & sticky. "Was this in a basement or something?" The detective turning it in looked down and mumbled something about a safe.

Well, the bills were sticking together something awful and I kept having to recount them. The smell got worse with every recount and by the time I was done, I was a sneezing, wheezing, watery-eyed hot mess. AND my hands itched. (I tried wearing gloves but it's really hard to count money with them on, so I gave up)

It took 3 shots of my rescue inhaler, a double dose of antihistamines, and several applications of eye-drops to be able to breathe & see after I got everything packaged & put away. By the time I got home, it felt like there was a lead weight on my chest and my throat was on fire. Was I smart enough to go to the ER? No. However, I WAS smart enough to fill out the exposure forms and email my bosses about the issue before I left the office.

After a VERY bad night, I went into work the next day. Like an idiot. I told our "coordinator" that I was sick and needed to go home and/or see a doctor. Both the Sgt & Lt had taken vacation days and the useless wonder was left in charge. She called around to ask if anyone would come in and at least cover part of the shift. No, dummy, in a case like this, you are allowed to FORCE OT, which is what she would have had to do if I'd just been smart enough to call in sick in the first place. The problem was that she asked them all first (and was not surprisingly turned down), so when she called back to try to force someone in, nobody would answer their phones. (despite knowing that I was sick- my coworkers ARE asshats, in case you were wondering) So she said I'd just have to stay, but if it got too bad to call her and she'd try to come back and cover me herself. Gee, thanks.

Every officer that came in that night was horrified to see me. By 6 o'clock, I was back to wheezing/sneezing, my eyes were watery again, and I looked like someone had punched me in the nose and blackened both of them. Oh, and my relief for the night wandered in 15 minutes late to boot. (bitch)

Did I go to the ER then? Noooooo. (Yes, I am an idiot) I went home, crawled straight into bed and spent the night fighting a fever & chills. I spent most of the weekend in bed, sick as a dog. Monday, I called in sick and dared them to argue. Tuesday morning, I finally went to the doctor. She was horrified and gave me an antibiotic that I have forgotten the name of but was like germ napalm. Not only did it knock out the sinus/throat infection my allergic reaction turned into, it cleared up acne!

It took nearly two weeks for me to get back to what passes for normal in my life. In the meantime, my bosses quizzed the detective who finally, albeit reluctantly, admitted that the money hadn't been in a safe, but was hidden inside the gaps of cinder-blocks in the drug dealer's foundation."But none of us had a problem after WE handled it!" Yeah, well none of YOU has a compromised immune system AND major mold allergies. Asses were ripped, apologies were issued, and the tellers at the bank were NOT happy to get that moldy money.

Lessons learned:

1. When a detective gives you a sketchy answer, make THEM handle the evidence.

2. GO TO THE FREAKING HOSPITAL

3. I will no longer answer my phone if it's the office. If they need someone to cover a 'sick' coworker, tough shit. I sucked up, they can too.


*****************************************************************
I'm on vacation for the next two weeks. Blog posts will continue to be sporadic.

Did that just happen?!?

So I'm at work and my boys BB & DH wandered in with their evidence. (Initials being used to protect the guilty/save my hide)  While I was entering their first case, D asked if we had any of the small baggies we use for narcotics. I passed some out to him and started on the second case.

While that was going on, BB was asking about what our schedules were like in this office. I explained how that worked, and he joked that he might have to put in an application for one of the vacant spots to help pay his child support. This boy is cute as a button, but still hasn't learned where babies come from, cuz he has a lot of them. So D & I started teasing him about that, and then he spotted the baggies I'd given D.

"Hey!" he squawked. "I need some of those too!" I told him I'd get him some when I was done with their case.

"But I want some now...c'mon, you know you want to give me some babies. I'll give you anything you want if you give me some babies!"

*crickets*

Then he realized what he'd just said.

And when we saw the the look on his face, D & I exploded into hysterical laughter.

I suspect it may be a few days before he wanders in again...

Thank Goodness That's Over!

Well, Derby Madness is over for another year. The bad weather actually helped lessen the madness this year, but there was still plenty of stupidity out there.

I was taken over to the track at about 10:30 Saturday morning. The first drunk was carried (literally)into the corrections area at 10:45.  He threw up, barely missing my evidence box, and was so wasted that they kept having to hold him up. It was decided that he was actually too drunk for the jail to take him, so he was cited and sent to the hospital.

The second drunk was hauled in at 10:57. He was in slightly better shape than the first one, but kept screaming that he needed to go to the bathroom. They took him to one, and then threw him in the cell. I looked over after a minute and he was naked, waving his shorts in the air. The corrections Lt was not amused and sent 3 guys into the cell to get his clothes back on him.

It got quiet again, so the corrections nurse and I played Fashion Victim Bingo while watching the crowd. I will never understand why idiot women wear dresses that are too short & too tight with heels that are too high and think that their clothing choices are impervious to rain. Also amusing were the large number of men in white pants that turned see-through in the rain. Next year, I bet they wear underwear!

It was quiet for an unusually long time. Then the belligerant drunks started rolling in. These are the guys who never know why they've been locked up and want to argue about it. Mr. My Daddy Is Rich was the ringleader and had the entire cell carrying on. He informed us repeatedly that "My dad makes more in a week than you poor assholes make in a year!" I couldn't take it, and after 30 minutes of that I informed him that his father may be rich, but he's the asshole in the cell and I was willing to bet dear old Dad was gonig to be less than thrilled to pay the $ to get him out. This sent his cellmates into hysterics and they spent the rest of the time before they were loaded into the booking van for their trip downtown picking on him.

Then the violent drunks started rolling in. We had two that they literally had to hog-tie. The worse offender of the two was an enraged, drunk, redneck woman. (who turned out to be my neighbor's sister- small world) She managed to throw the table we were using as a counter, despite being handcuffed, and kicked everyone within reach. (luckily not me) Corrections quickly closed the garage door so the public wouldn't view this (our area was right by the main gate) and six of them took her down to the floor. It was special.  They had to carry her screaming, face down, hog tied, and still trying to kick everyone, to the booking van.

So, that was my Derby day. Oh, and one of the horses I bet on won! It was a last minute decision to bet on Orb (the horse I wanted to bet was scratched), but it worked out. I only won $25 (small bet), but I won. Now if the horse that was in the lead until close to the end had kept his lead, I would have won $250. Damn it. Happens every time.

My cousins were so amused by my Facebook posts from the track that they want to come to Derby next year. I told them to bring it on!

It's Hug An Australian Day!

Yes, it's real... and I'm very lucky in that one of our resident department hunks just happens to be the man formerly known as Outback Jack on an early Bachelor-style show. (I also have him on speed dial) So here's a look at my sweet friend Vadim, aka the Aussie I got to hug today:

 from the TV show  his official department photo

And, just because I couldn't resist, here's a look at another Aussie I have been lucky enough to hug on several occasions:


 80's Rick  more recent Rick


And last, but by no means least, one I would love to get my hands on:

 mmmm, Hugh

It's National Haiku Day!

Nightshade and Malkin

Furry, purry little pests

I love them so much.

The books that I own

Are all over my small house...

Reader's paradise!

I'm VERY hungry.

Mongolian Bacon? YUM!

Will you bring me some?

Crap! Time to go work.

Officers and Criminals...

Where are my happy pills?

Once More With Feeling

Here we go again. We have a new crop of rookie officers that have just been turned loose on the street. They actually aren't the problem- it's some of the officers who have been on long enough to know better that inspired this round of the Dear Officer files.

Dear Officer:

1. What part of DO NOT SHOVE LOOSE NEEDLES UNDER THE WINDOW do you not understand?!? THERE IS A FREAKING SIGN IN THE WINDOW IN BOLD CAPS THAT SAYS TO ASK FOR A SAFETY TUBE IF YOU DON'T HAVE ONE. And if I get stuck by a needle that you were too stupid to contain, BOTH of us will be going to the hospital.

2. Our office develops a wind tunnel effect when the temperature shifts drastically. This has not changed in the last 7 years. If you notice that the wind blows every time someone opens the damned door, or we tell you to hold onto your papers/evidence, HOLD ONTO YOUR SHIT. Especially if it's an unwrapped needle as mentioned above.

3. We know it's hot in our office. It's not necessary or clever to point it out to us. 

4. We know the office reeks of marijuana thanks to our lame ventilation system. It's not necessary or clever to point THAT out to us either.

5. We know that everyone has different tastes, different work habits, and we relate to different people in different ways. Some officers prefer one clerk to another. THIS is fine. Telling the clerk who is waiting on your dumb ass that you think her coworker is the best clerk and you wish she was there instead is NOT fine and WILL get your shit handed back to you with a request that you come back when THAT clerk is working. 

6. Yes, you need to fill out a currency seizure form AND a forfeiture form if the money you are turning in is drug related. NO, WE WILL NOT FILL IT OUT FOR YOU.

7. Do not get an attitude with us if we tell you to stop flapping your yap and pay attention. We need information to do our job. If you don't bring in a citation, or don't bring in a legible citation, we need you to be able to answer some questions. This can't happen if you're talking on your cell phone or shooting the shit with whoever is waiting in line after you. 

8. Don't get an attitude with us if you don't follow rule 7 and something isn't entered the way you wanted it. If you'd paid attention, it might have been.

9. While most of the people we come into contact with are less than upstanding citizens, we still have to try to deal with them nicely. If we get the guy YOU pissed off and gave the runaround and he tells us that you claim WE screwed up, we are more than happy to look up the identity of your commanding officer and suggest he call them to correct the issue. If something that should have been personal property got put in as evidence because you were too busy fucking around to follow rule 7, that is YOUR problem, not ours. And we will happily tell the citizen that. You had the chance to tell us that at the beginning of our transaction with you, and in the case of the gun I had to deal with last week, you also should have noticed that when you were handed the envelope to seal and sign. Sometimes we make mistakes and most of us will admit.apologize, but if you try to throw us under the bus, we will drag you along with us.

10. If there is only one clerk working and you come in while they're entering a search warrant for another officer, be prepared to wait. Do not keep asking how much longer this is going to take. You can always leave and come back. If you choose to wait, do not sit out there and complain to other people that we're slow.

There's a great deal more, but that's enough bile for one post.