A Middie Back! Moment

As The Man can attest, my previous blog, Middie Back!, was comprised mostly of political diatribes and constant vitriolic secretions of bile. Every Friday was "People I Hate" day, where I took my anger out on the public, instead of putting it in the happy box. Thankfully, I am now a kindler, gentler blogger, who usually leaves politics and hatred to the experts (read: not me).

Today, however, we're going back in time. Strap yourselves in.

Last night I sprint into roll call only to find out that my a**hole sergeant put me on the wagon. Normally, that would make me break out the duct tape for my skull, but I was paralyzed with rage. See, last week, I did the sergeants a huge favor by working inside. The usual toad was "off sick" (read: drunk, sleeping, or a combination of the two), and I had to bail them out. No problemo, but don't immediately screw me afterwards.

Not only did the good (read: jerkoff) sergeant screw me last night, but he didn't even grease me up, nor did he give me the common courtesy of a reach-around. As my partner and I were heading out to the wagon, we realize that last night was "bringdown" night. I verbalized my thoughts succinctly: "F**K!!!" On bringdown night, the district wagon must trek over to the prisons, load up the truck with the prisoners/human detritus, and bring them down to the district court. It's about a three-hour job.

At 3am, we start over to the Detention Center. The guard meets us outside, and says that we can't even enter the grounds until 5am - meaning any chance of us getting home on time is nixed. He tells us to park the wagon and "chill out" for two hours. Sure thing boss, 'cause these vans are just perfect for sleepin'. ASS!!!

Five o'clock rolls in, and I'm getting "the twitch." Barney Fife lets us into the receiving area and we ask the flunky how long we'll have to wait for the felons. "Oh, they won't be down until at least 6am, guys. Have a seat and relax." I verbalized my thoughts succinctly: "F**K!!!" Okay, I am disarmed in a lobby where prisoners are roaming free. Do ya think I'm gonna take a nap, you jackass?

The 6am guests of the state start trickling down, and we notice that three of our five scumbags are here. That's when the next rocket scientist mentions that the other two are in the infirmary (and, no, Bill, I am guessing the doctor isn't a hottie, like on Prison Break). It is gonna be at least fifteen more minutes. The time is now 6:30am, and we are supposed to report off at 7:15!

By 6:40, we are loaded and ready to go. Luckily, Gerry makes like Jeff Gordon and weaves in and out of rush hour traffic to get us to HQ by 7am. After herding the assclowns into their temporary cells, we make like sheep and get the flock outta there. My last comment to my partner was, "F**k this job!"

And f**k you, sarge! See if I ever do you a favor again.