Daily life of a cop

There’s nowhere to put this sh*t down at the end of a shift; nowhere to tuck it away.

Every door you knock is mostly bad news for them – or for you.

Every car you stop or person you try to help – are they planning to kill you?

Head on a swivel.

Watch your six.

Go eat. Back to the wall, facing the door.

Did they f*ck with my food?

Scan for threats.

Sharp sounds.

Adrenaline dumps.

Fighting (for your life).

Fighting off the DV victim that called 911 on their husband.

Surrounded.

Shot at (whizzzz!)

Car chase.

Hold up alarm.

Rape in progress (DEAR GOD, LET ME CATCH YOU THERE, PLEASE!)

Child abuse ( won’t speak, rocking back and forth).

Active break in.

Clear the building.

“Sir, I’m holding two domestics and a shots fired on your beat.”

Tones… “I have no cars clear in ______Divison.

Start me another car.

Have them step it up.

Tones…”Clear the air”.

“Car_____ isn’t answering their radio”.

I am sorry to inform you that your son/daughter/sister/brother/mother/father was involved in a bad accident.

Check the welfare of…

Smell hits you at the door.

Go home.

Flip switch

Be husband/wife/father/mother/care giver.

Get up and go to court (or just stay up if on latewatch)

Play hide and seek with the attorneys.

Get home.

Turn on the news and learn about how bad you are.

Get advice from the “experts” on how to fix your bad self (more training).

Go do it again.

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