Spring in Ghetto City

Working the part-time/entertainment gig at Ghetto City PD. Owing to the quirky spring/not spring/cold/not cold time of year and a building heating and cooling system that isn't quite on the ball, dispatch and the squad room are a bit stuff. It's a balmy 55 outside. Sgt. OCD is tugging at his vest and not pleased. He opens both the outer door to the PD lobby and then the inner door leading to dispatch and the squad room. I give him a look indicating there is a reason I set behind bullet-resistant glass with a panic button and not in the lobby.


"Don't worry, I have a clear shot at them from my office. It's hot in here."

"When is the last time you qualified on your service weapon? And you're wearing a vest!"

Now completely annoyed with borderline insubordination from the part-time sass-mouthed dispatcher, he just walks away. I spend the rest of the shift eyeballing the lobby camera.


Later...

The community relations officer comes into dispatch to inform me he will be out at a church meeting. Mockingly, I ask if he's going to need status to save him from the church ladies.

"Naw, If anything whacked goes down, I'll drop to my knees and start praying."

Random Complaint of the Shift:  Kids building a tree fort. In their own yard.

GCPD

Whilst working my part-time gig at Ghetto City PD, your fearless dispatcher has taken part in the following conversations:

"Why is there a bullet on the floor?" "I dunno, it's not mine." Both officers then look at me  to visually assure themselves that I am, in fact, unarmed. Same police department who's dish drying rack was home to brass knuckles for months.  



"Tell him we gave his stuff to his baby momma."  I cannot bring myself, even after 5 years at GCPD, to actually use the term "baby momma" in conversation. Awkward phrasing follows. 

"The officer said he gave your belongings to your... girlfriend?"

[confused look]

"Ex-girlfriend, maybe?"

[blank stare]

"The mother of your child?"

"My baby momma?"

"Yes."


Currently housing a ridiculously angry 40-something female drunk, who must be fun to live with after a few beers. Keeps switching between absolute coma, wide-awake fits of rage and screaming, and from what I can tell; an utterly shit Tarzan impression. Also housing a 19 year old female, who is simply aghast that one could be arrested for spitting on a cop.

This is my last scheduled shift at GCPD until the fall, unless I'm called in to cover. I'm soaking up all the summer crazy now.