The Conversation

So, despite my expectations, I worked my usual solo car last night. (My current partner was on vacation, so I guess Sergeant Scumbag couldn't justify putting one on the wagon without the other.) However, I was told to sit on a security detail for the first two and a half hours of the tour. I didn't much mind, because I was sitting on an off-duty detective's house - the detective has been getting death threats. (I can't wait 'til that happens to me! Actually, I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet on the blog.)

Anyhoo, I am sitting in my car listening to the Colts spank the Pats (Whoo hoo!) and Sergeant Scumbag pulls up. This is the first time I have seen him since the screaming incident. (For those who don't remember, the sergeant flipped his lid primarily because he hates my partner and thought we didn't handle a job as quickly as he liked.) At this point, I am assuming he's going to either continue to harass me, or admit he was wrong for the whole incident.

He did neither.

Here's how the conversation went:

Sergeant - "I just wanted to say 'no hard feelings' about the other night."

Wyatt - "Fine." (Insert pissy attitude while refusing to look at the man.)

Sergeant - "I mean, I'm about to retire and you're going to get promoted, so . . . "

Wyatt - (To myself) "So . . . what?"

Sergeant - "You're a good cop."

Wyatt - (To myself) "No sh*t."

Sergeant - "I'm fair with everyone. You would have done the same thing if you were a supervisor and saw something wrong."

Wyatt - (Again, to myself) - "Bullsh*t. You are picking on me because you hate my partner, and I would never scream profanities at a subordinate for not handling an alarm in under twenty minutes."

Sergeant - "Well, I just wanted to say 'no hard feelings.' Have a good night."

Wyatt - "Yeah."

(As an aside, I took note of every job last night where the officers did not tell radio that they were "on location" - another of his grievances with us - guess how many there were? Fifteen! And Sergeant Scumbag didn't say a word to any of the officers.)

From my two semesters of college psychology, I can only theorize that the sergeant talked to me to make himself feel better. He offered no apology, and refused to admit he did anything wrong. I wanted to get into it with him, but I would have had better luck talking to my vehicle. If you hadn't guessed from my two answers (and the fact that I never once looked at him) he is still "dead" to me.