That’s about as exciting a description I can craft. Truly, it is about as boring as a baseball game being called by Harry Reid.
The day started off swimmingly, as it rained all through rush hour. I-95 is bad enough without FAIL-driving douche canoes keeping my speed below 35mph. You see, our training center – which is separate from the spacious police academy – is a rented office building in Center City. It has a parking lot that holds about 20 cars, plus on-street parking for about 20 more. On normal days, at least 100 cops are stuck in training. As a result, you better be at the building well before 7am – training starts at 8 – or you’ll need a water bottle and a Sherpa to make it to the building.
Unfortunately, the on-street parking backs up to a methadone clinic, so you take your vehicle’s life into your hands if you park there. The plus side is the junkies will offer to “watch your car for you” if you offer them money . . . or Nacho Cheese Doritos…
Any hoo, I make it in early enough to grab a spot close enough to the building, yet far enough away from the clinic that I don’t have to experience the smell of beef and feet. Trust me, nothing eradicates that smell.
Today’s course is “Legal Updates,” which boils down to eight hours of listening to an overweight, under-intelligent police supervisor who spent his entire career studying for promotional tests instead of pinching bad guys. The only crimes these people have stopped are aggravated paper cuts and conspiracy to commit a fashion faux pas.
The class begins, and by noon I’m desperately trying to find a way to use my pen as a do-it-yourself Diet Coke IV. When the attempts prove unsuccessful, I being jotting down notes while using soft pretzel dough to stop my bleeding veins. Between the “Legal Updates” segment and the “Public Events” segment (which deals with the Occupy toads), the most common term I am hearing is, “This really doesn’t apply to detectives.”
THEN WHY THE F**K AM I HERE???
The rest of the day is a blur, but I am pretty sure I had a nice sit-down lunch with the junkie who was watching my car.