Here's to hoping that you're not sick of my endless ranting about police in any and all forms, because I've still got more venom to spit. Yesterday I spent with my friend Huntington as I do most Wednesdays. We went out to lunch with Jess, then later stopped by one of our favorite game stores, Six Feet Under in New Holland, and picked up some things for the little Magic club that we run.
Upon pulling into the parking lot, we saw a cop car parked and empty, initiating distaste from both of us for no good reason, because that's just who we are. However, when we got out of Huntington's car, we found good reason for our disgust. The car was running with the air-conditioner blasting, condensation leaking onto the ground into a huge puddle. The car had obviously been parked like this for a while. Six Feet is in a little strip mall, along with a Blockbuster, an H&R Block, a Subway and a coffeehouse, among other things. We went to our store to pick things up, then screwed around awhile, waiting for our friend and clubmate Amanda to arrive at her job at Blockbuster to give her the cards we'd picked up for her. After about fifteen minutes or so, we wandered into New Holland Coffee to hang out somewhere a little cooler than Huntington's Jetta and who did we finally see? That's right, this little piggy went to get a mocha.
He was sitting at the window, watching his car to make sure no one tried to cruise away in it (in which case he would have no doubt sprung out the door and tased them within an inch of a heart attack), just sippin' away on his refreshing beverage. I wish I'd thought to look at his badge, or at least his license plate, so that I could call and ask the department if this is the sort of thing that they condone. Because not only was it pointless, wasteful and bad for the environment, it was a waste of fucking tax money. Congrats, taxpayers of New Holland Borough, you just pissed away a tank of gasoline's worth of cash because your patrolman wanted to keep his car cool while he took a little half hour break. It's a small number, no doubt. But is he the only officer doing this? And how often does he do so? This seemed like a pretty routine thing, him lounging in his chair at the window. It all adds up. And you shouldn't be expected to spend even a fraction of a cent on such wasteful behavior.
So what is there to do? I could call the department and bitch and they wouldn't care. Scratch that. I could write a blog about it for nobody in particular. Done. I guess I could write a letter to the local newspaper. Done and done. Of course, this means that I can no longer drive in New Holland, for fear that the officer (who is definitely going to know exactly who I'm talking about) will look up my license plate number and harass the shit out of me if he ever gets a chance. But it's worth the trouble. Especially because Huntington usually drives when we go there since he doesn't like being in my car. Whatever that's supposed to mean.
The letter is a bit nicer than this--too nice, I think, but otherwise they probably won't print it--but I think it gets my point across. That I hate fucking cops. Well, more that I think valuable tax money is being wasted on stupidity, and that police in general need to have a little more respect for the people they lord over, since they demand so much respect of us--a point that I feel we can all agree upon. Other than the police, but by now you know how I feel about them.