Mon Raison D’etre (High School French, bitches!)

I never thought I’d want to be in the Traffic Unit. I never thought I’d want to spend my days writing tickets. Turns out, I freakin’ love it. I mean like righteously love it. You know that ass that cuts you off on the freeway and didn’t even have the courtesy to wave, let alone signal? I get to write that prick a ticket. Puts a smile on my face.

Here’s another reason I love traffic. I practically get to be judge and jury on each violation. Sure, it’s an infraction. No, typically no one goes to jail. But guess what, folks? It’s the quickest, easiest, and cleanest way to exact justice. Allow me to explain…

Say I arrest some dipshit for beating his wife/girlfriend/transgenderfied cousin/whatever. The victim has obvious injuries (traumatic injuries for you purists out there). I interview everyone involved. I take pictures. I write a report. I transport dipshit to jail. The whole process takes about five hours, on a simple case. Guess what happens next? Dipshit’s victim bails dipshit out of jail. The D.A. (district attorney for you neophytes) won’t file the felony because the victim isn’t the most cooperative of subjects. If I’m lucky, dipshit gets charged with misdemeanor domestic battery, does no jail time, and if Jupiter is in the seventh house, maybe gets probation. Maybe.

Not enough? Too hypothetical for you? Try this on for size….

I’m at work. In uniform. In a fucking police car. I’m stopped for a red light. Just sitting there minding my own business. All of a sudden…SLAM!!! I’m now halfway in the intersection and being pushed even further into it. I look in my rearview and see smoke coming from the tires of the vehicle behind me as the driver is standing on the accelerator. I am now standing on my brakes trying to avoid being pushed any further. I get on the air, advise I was just struck from behind and, oh….what’s this? The driver throws it in reverse and is now attempting to flee. Uh….HELL NO! I flip a quick U, throw on the lites and siren and give chase. Didn’t last long as the driver drove over the sidewalk, into a parking lot, up a small landscaped hillside to a stop. I pull behind the car and get out. I am not happy.

I walk over to the car, hand on my gun, and I see a mid to late 50’s female behind the wheel of the car. Huh?!? You guessed it…drunk. Long story short, she goes to jail for deuce (DUI) and I go home and then the chiropractor for a few months. A few months later, a warrant comes out for her arrest. My partner and I go to the house and hook her. She had no clue who I was. Oh, and guess what else…SHE WAS DRUNK!!! Unreal. Off to jail she goes. Both times she was in jail less than a day because her husband bailed her out. Case never went to trial. Know why? The D.A. and drunk lady’s bottom feeder (defense attorney) worked out a plea deal. Know what she got for being involved in a deuce crash? Basically, fuck all. No jail time, minimal fines, and probation. That’s it, kids. She hit an on-duty police officer and didn’t spend any significant time in jail. Nice, huh?

So, back to the point. I get personal and immediate satisfaction knowing that when I stop someone, the odds of them getting what they deserve are astronomically higher than if they commit a random misdemeanor, or even a felony. Twisted, but this is the criminal justice system, trusting citizens!

It gets better, though. Some of these fools actually fight the ticket! Silly rabbit, fines are for violators. I’ve literally been to court and testified hundreds of times.  I seldom lose.  Like count on both hands and have fingers left over lose.  I don’t have to rely on the D.A. or any other attorney for that matter. In court, I represent the state, present my case, and await what has come to be fairly inevitable. I get the satisfaction of knowing everything will be handled from start to finish with little or no plea deals and the defendant will end up paying for his/her actions.

At the end of the day, I love my job. Yeah, there are drawbacks to working where I do and we’ll get into those sometime soon, but overall, there are very few days I wake up and lament going to work. My job makes me happy.

I just wanted to offer up a brief explanation of why I love my job so much. To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it in this particular context before. Dear Lord, Mom was right. This IS a good idea. Damn…she’ll probably read that bit, too. Great, now I have to hear about it. *sigh*.

Please note: I reserve the right to delete comments that are offensive or off-topic. Snark is encouraged. Being a prat is not.

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3 thoughts on “Mon Raison D’etre (High School French, bitches!)

  1. wow that some funny stuff…you definatly have your mothers sense of humor and ability to write. Keep it comin J cause that is enjoyable reading right there. I miss u and love you.