I’m Tellin’! I’m Tellin’!

gun in mouth

Recently, a member of my family won a small victory over the ubiquitous forces of evil. In the interests of not being sued by a moron (and likely psychopath) for libel, I’m going to go ahead and leave it at that. But these events did remind me of a pet peeve and something I want to talk about: cop calling.

 

The villain in question used this technique as their (alas, I had to resort to the plural pronoun to disguise her gender) weapon of choice. In one instance, it was angry that it could not come in my house, so it banged on the door and screamed. I confronted it, told it to leave before it woke my sleeping angels and forced me to bury it in the backyard like a soup bone. Anywho, it didn’t like this answer, so it called the cops and told the dispatcher “people are smoking weed in the house and they won’t let me in.” The cops came, and were unusually reasonable (I’ve perhaps had some unfortunate encounters with the Reno PD over the years, with no love lost on either side, I’m sure), and in fact waited for it to return like a disturbed boomerang.

 

My ex-wife also routinely threatened to call the police on me when we were enjoying our separation and ultimate divorce. Why? Who does that? The police are not paid to enforce the obscene will of crazy broads (or dudes). Give me a break. Did you just execute a jackass invading your home and menacing your children? Great, call the cops. Are you a bank teller about to be robbed? Hey, I’m all for police intervention then. You understand where I’m coming from, yeah? Police rarely make the situation better, and certainly don’t want to be used as tools for controlling and manipulative people to take revenge on their significant others.

 

While I am no fan of the police, I concede that they serve a necessary function, and that they have an incredibly difficult job: dealing with the underbelly of humanity day in and day out. Let’s not make their job harder by forcing them to play babysitter to arguing adults who act like arguing children. So, cop callers, the next time you grab your pocket computer to phone in a frivolous complaint because your baby-daddy looked at you wrong and slept with your sister, stop first and take a deep breath—let it out slowly—and try not to take another one. You’re using up valuable air.

 

About Jeff Opfer

Jeff is a carpenter and freelance writer born and raised in the Reno area. View all posts by Jeff Opfer

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