So yesterday I was sitting in work when the phone rang. Like an imbecile, I picked it up.
(So you know, most of us avoid picking up the phone because there is always an idiot on the other end of the line. Yesterday was no exception.)
The officer on the other end was a female who works in my division, and is regarded as one of the most galactically stupid cops in the department. She solidified that title with this call:
Officer Barbie: “Yeah, I have a witness out here who states his neighbor fired shots into the air before running into his house.”
Me: “Okay, are there any injuries?”
Officer Barbie: “No, but we’re in the house with the doer. A gun and bullets are on the floor of his bedroom.”
This is usually the moment when I suffer my first brain aneurysm. Did I survive? Find out below the fold.
I composed myself enough to continue with the conversation, but it was difficult.
Me: “Wait, how did you get into the house?”
Officer Barbie: “We knocked on the door and someone let us in. The person said the doer was in the upstairs bedroom.”
Protip: If you’re a police officer, and you’re told a person with a gun is inside a residence, and no hot pursuit is involved, you need to get a search warrant before, you know, searching! Damn that pesky Constitution!
Me: “Um, you did this without calling us first and without a search warrant?”
Officer Barbie: (Silence.)
Me: “Okay look, the man is allowed to have a gun inside his home, and . . .”
Officer Barbie: “BUT THE WITNESS SAID HE WAS FIRING IT OUTSIDE!”
Me: “I understand that, but right now we have no evidence that happened, except the word of this witness. Did you find any shell casings, projectiles, or damage to buildings or cars?”
Officer Barbie: “Well, no.”
Me: “Well, unless you get something better, this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to transport the witness up here for a statement, and you’re going to get officers to hold the house until we say otherwise. No one in or out until we find out what the hell is going on.”
Officer Barbie: “Will you guys be getting a search warrant?”
Me: “Nope. Probably not.”
Officer Barbie: “Why?”
Me: “Because you already killed our chances by bursting into the house. Just bring up the witness.”
Officer Barbie: “Yeah, about that . . .”
Officer Barbie: “We can’t seem to find the witness now.”
Me: “Then you have bupkis. Resume patrol.”
And this, dear readers, is the kind of nonsense I have to put up with.