There are bad police officers, but I really do believe they are in the minority, yet the actions of the few always seem to be in the spotlight.
Dear Mr. Citizen:
It seems you have figured me out. I seem to fit neatly into the category where you placed me. I'm stereotyped, standardized, characterized, classified, grouped, and always typical. I'm the "lousy cop". Unfortunately, the reverse is true..I can never figure you out.
From birth you teach your children that I am a person to be aware of, and then you are shocked when they identify me with my traditional enemy...the criminal.
You accuse me of coddling juveniles, until I catch your kid doing something.
You may take an hour for lunch and several coffee breaks each day, but point me out as a loafer if you see me having just one cup.
You pride yourself on your polished manners, but think nothing of interrupting my meals at noon with your troubles.
You raise hell with the person who cuts you off in traffic, but let me catch you doing the same thing and I'm picking on you. You know all the traffic laws...but you never got one single ticket you deserved.
You shout "FOUL!!" if you observe me driving fast, en route to an emergency call, but literally raise hell if I take more than ten seconds responding to your call.
You call it "part of my duty" if someone strikes me. But it's "police brutality" if I strike back.
You wouldn't think of telling your dentist how to pull a badly decayed tooth, or a doctor how to take out your appendix, but you are always giving me pointers on law enforcement.
You talk to me in a manner and use language that would assure a bloody nose from anyone else, but you expect me to stand there and take it without batting an eye.
You say "something has to be done about all the crime", but you can't be bothered with getting involved.
You've got no use for me at all, but of course, it's OK if I change a tire for your wife, or deliver a baby on the back seat of my squad car on the way to the hospital, or save your son's life with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or work many hours of overtime to find your lost daughter.
So, Dear Citizen, you stand there on your soap box and rant and rave about the way I do my job, calling me every name in the book, but never stop to think that your property, your family, or maybe your life might depend on one thing...me or one of my buddies.
Yes, Mr. Citizen, it's me......The Lousy Cop!