Saturday, October 23, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Coffee Shame
0400. Between my podmate and I we have 7 hours of sleep combined in 48 hours. The coffee run can no longer be avoided (you didn't think we would use that nasty pot in the break room, did you?). Coffee order goes around the room, and podmate finally gets to me.
"I'll have a small coffee, cream and sugar."
"Small? You know that's the size of a shot glass right?"
"I won't finish anything bigger."
"That's a disgrace to the profession. I'm bringing you a medium... maybe one day you can work up to the big girl coffee."
"I'll have a small coffee, cream and sugar."
"Small? You know that's the size of a shot glass right?"
"I won't finish anything bigger."
"That's a disgrace to the profession. I'm bringing you a medium... maybe one day you can work up to the big girl coffee."
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Open Mic
Relieving day shift at 1845, when I hear the dispatcher next to me casually mention that she had an open mic for 19 minutes and no one told her. Instead of being absolutely aghast at the professional lapse involved, she's treating this like the latest bit of hot gossip.
For 19 minutes she didn't notice that her big ole key-up indicator was fucking red. That she was hearing herself talk in her own ear, that units responding weren't in her ear, but instead coming out of the speaker on the radio box. In short, she didn't notice that just about everything was working the exact opposite of the way it should have been.
I think the more telling point is that none of her officers or coworkers bothered to save her from herself. Not because we're not helpful here, but because past attempts at trying to keep her from running a district in the ground were met with spite and contempt.
When the people that you are entrusted with keeping safe for 12 hours a day won't make a quick call in to let you know that you're embarrassing yourself on the radio, that should be an indication of how little you are thought, not how "funny" your day was.
For 19 minutes she didn't notice that her big ole key-up indicator was fucking red. That she was hearing herself talk in her own ear, that units responding weren't in her ear, but instead coming out of the speaker on the radio box. In short, she didn't notice that just about everything was working the exact opposite of the way it should have been.
I think the more telling point is that none of her officers or coworkers bothered to save her from herself. Not because we're not helpful here, but because past attempts at trying to keep her from running a district in the ground were met with spite and contempt.
When the people that you are entrusted with keeping safe for 12 hours a day won't make a quick call in to let you know that you're embarrassing yourself on the radio, that should be an indication of how little you are thought, not how "funny" your day was.
Friday, October 15, 2010
MEMO
MEMO
TO: Officer Goldilocks
FROM: Dispatcher S. Pants
RE: Proper key up procedure
Keying up on the radio with nothing but the sound of your call sign and the engine revving makes me think bad, vehicle pursuit-like things. I nearly broke an ankle getting back to the keyboard only to have you ask me to re-open the phone assignment you were on for a wallet theft.
You are now solely responsible for the bad district ju-ju that will surely follow. A big dump of adrenaline into a dispatcher's system and nothing to channel it into only leads to bad things. Very, very bad things.
TO: Officer Goldilocks
FROM: Dispatcher S. Pants
RE: Proper key up procedure
Keying up on the radio with nothing but the sound of your call sign and the engine revving makes me think bad, vehicle pursuit-like things. I nearly broke an ankle getting back to the keyboard only to have you ask me to re-open the phone assignment you were on for a wallet theft.
You are now solely responsible for the bad district ju-ju that will surely follow. A big dump of adrenaline into a dispatcher's system and nothing to channel it into only leads to bad things. Very, very bad things.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I'm becoming one of the pod people.
Used to be that I was practically the only dispatcher in the room that could stand to have the overhead lights on and the screen on the monitors turned all the way up. Not anymore. I sit here with the overhead lights off, console lights off, and the brightness and contrast on the monitors turned all the way down. My eyes have become extremely light sensitive in the past few months.
Oh, and I sit here and constantly moisturize my hands to fight against the drying effect of using Clorox wipes and hand sanitizer.
It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again.
No wonder I don't date. Christ.
Used to be that I was practically the only dispatcher in the room that could stand to have the overhead lights on and the screen on the monitors turned all the way up. Not anymore. I sit here with the overhead lights off, console lights off, and the brightness and contrast on the monitors turned all the way down. My eyes have become extremely light sensitive in the past few months.
Oh, and I sit here and constantly moisturize my hands to fight against the drying effect of using Clorox wipes and hand sanitizer.
It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again.
No wonder I don't date. Christ.
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