16 April 2012
Night shift. Hyped up on briefing getting set to go catch billy burglar. Double espresso with sugar cursing through the system just to keep the edge. Car thief on the prowl. Going to be our night to take someone off the streets! Spirits high and all looking good. It's what the public want and indeed expect. Fighting crime. It's what we sign up to do.
Half hour into shift sat off in a quiet corner of one of the more affluent areas watching, waiting. He will come. Tonight's his last as a free man.
Radio message, 'go to hospital to guard prisoner.'
Bollocks!
Now been sat here for 5 hours listening to the thunderous snoring coming from the drain on society who will probably be found guilty but sent away with a stern lecture to 'stop drinking and make something of your life' by the kindly magistrate.
William T Burglar is now able to roam at will in his quest to fuck the life out of some innocent family whilst I'm sat here babysitting somebody who has known about their condition for many weeks but only decides they need treatment when a hospital bed is deemed more palatable than a suite at hotel custody.
Catching burglars? I fucking wish! I'm more likely to catch MRSA tonight!
Catching Burglars? • Opuss № I