Police Racism

Recently I was sitting around the table with a few teammates, a Sergeant and an Inspector from another team. We were discussing the various jobs we had dealt with or were dealing with, when a probationer PC piped up about a shoplifting job he had ongoing.

He'd just picked up the CCTV from the shop, which was of the usual quality - nice to have, but nowhere near good enough for a conviction by itself.
He'd played it back and had spotted a black male going into and leaving the shop at the appropriate time, and the suspect that he had arrested at the scene and who was sitting in custody was a black male.
The officer said "The useful thing is, there aren't many black people in that area, only two come in during the whole time, so that makes things a bit easier to ID him."

A long intake of breath followed.

The young in service officer paused. "What?"

Whispered conversation between the Inspector and Sergeant, then the PC was invited out of the canteen to have a chat about his "potentially racist attitude."
How have we got to this point, where a young, naive but eager PC is excited about the prospect of arresting a suspect and he is spoken to about his potential racism?

Yes, the words may have been misconstrued if seen in an isolated sentence. Yes, someone that wasn't in the conversation may have misunderstood. But in the context of the conversation, it was a simple case of a young copper wanting to be able to charge a recidivist thief.

The really sad thing is that the Inspector involved didn't for a moment think that any racism was involved, and the same goes for the Sergeant. What they didn't want (understandably) was to be seen to be allowing racism.

It's hard to keep up sometimes.

Ruffles

More and more, we are starting to worry in our team about our Sergeant.
He has always been on the eccentric side of the camp, and in fact, has happily described himself as "bloody mad" before.

At first, they were minor things. Things that made me chuckle - like when he was put in custody, a prisoner was brought before him, and the good sergeant brought out a coin of foreign denomination with a head on both sides. He then proceeded to tell the prisoner that he was going to decide bail on the flip of the coin, heads no bail, tails you get bail...
He hasn't been posted as Custody Sergeant for a long time.

This, and other striking traits has always endeared him to me. Like many long-serving sergeants, his knowledge of most law is vast and in a critical incident he kicks into action, and obviously knows the vast majority of police procedures back to front. He even nicks people occasionally.
But outside of these kind of incidents, he potters along in a bemused way making jokes that aren't funny and asking questions of officers that have little or no basis in reality.

Recently though (and I appreciate this may give a clue who I actually am), he has taken to going everywhere with a small cuddly toy in tow, the kind of thing you get free with a McDonalds happy meal.

He is inordinately proud of this toy.

He clutches it close whilst talking to senior officers, sits it on the desk whilst supervising crime reports... and chats to it all the while. Even whilst no one is about.
This is fine by me, but some of the other patrol sergeants are starting to get that weary, I've had enough face when sitting opposite a sergeant having an animated conversation with a fluffy toy: "What's that Ruffles? Under the Home Office counting rules this crime report might be better classified as a criminal damage. Hmm, you may be right."

I recently had the pleasure of driving him about on a night duty, and I can testify now that Ruffles (not his real name) was safely buckled into the back of the supervisor's van before I drove anywhere. At one point we went to a fire, and the sergeant got him out to sit on the dashboard.
Apparently Ruffles likes fire.

All this is well and good - the Police has always had a comforting way of welcoming eccentrics into the ranks.
But Ruffles must go.
Our sergeant has started deferring questions to Ruffles. Acting Sergeant Ruffles as we must now call him.
Ruffles has even started countermanding our sergeant's orders.

Last week Ruffles denied an annual leave request I made.

The bear must go.

Laughing Policeman

It was a rainy night duty, and PC Rain was doing the wonderful job that we all know and love him for. I was single crewed and had actually managed to get a refs break. I wasn't expecting one, so I had called up another unit that was on their way in to grab me a nice healthy meal.

Whilst waiting I had been browsing through the hundreds of notice boards that are up around our nick. I have no idea where they come from, but surely people must realise they aren't serving their purpose anymore? When every wall and every surface is plastered with these boards, with "Senior Management Updates," "Community Relations News," and "Our Basket Of Ten Priorities" then it all becomes a senseless blur, like slightly more colourful wallpaper.

Hidden amongst this was a useful section which showed our current senior officers on the borough, a large section with blow up photos of each one. I had spent an informative ten minutes or so finding out how many of them I actually knew/recognised/had heard their name before (three out of about twelve) and how many I had actually met(two). I had then spent slightly less time correcting some grammatical and spelling errors that had appeared below the photos (awful really, someone had spelt "suck" as "suk"), written by cynical and bitter officers no doubt. I recognised at least one Inspector's handwriting.

I then ambled towards the canteen, a bundle of computer handouts in my hand, passing the Sergeant's Office on the way where two Sergeants sat typing at their computers. One paused and looked up.
Sgt 1: "Ah, Area, just the man. Are you doing anything right now?"
Think fast, think fast, think fast... oh bugger... "No Sarge, not particularly."
Sgt 1: "Good, pop in, I need a word"
I started to think even faster. How could he have seen from his office?
Area: "Ah, the thing is Sarge, I was only correcting their spelling. I didn't add anything."
A Blank Look.
Sgt 1: "Do I want to know what you are talking about?"
Area: "Er..."
Sgt 2: "Shut the door Area and take a seat, you're cluttering up the office."
I did as I was told, then decided to bite the bullet.
"Am I in trouble Sarge?"
Sgt 1: "Should you be?"
Sgt 2: "Stupid question, Pete."
General laughing from the Sergeants. I tried to smile as well.
Sgt 1: "In fact Area, believe it or not I just wanted to say I've received a letter from someone thanking you for your help in dealing with her incident. I've also got an email from another relief's Inspector saying you did a good job working with his team the other week."
Area: "In that case, can I take the Beano from out the back of my trousers then. As I'm not getting a beating this time?"
At this point, Sgt 2 who had been typing continually turned to me. Whilst sitting at the desk I had been nervously fiddling and folding at the print outs that I was holding. "What are you doing with those print outs Area? Is that a paper plane you're trying to make?"
Um, actually, it was supposed to be the head of a power ranger. I didn't mention this.
Sgt 1: "I think its nice that Area can express himself without using crayons occasionally." (smirk)
Sgt 2: "Of course Pete - so on top of his other talents, Area here is a black belt in Origami as well?" (snigger)

Ha ha ha. No-one should be in that much of a good mood on night duty. Especially Sergeants.

Ha bloody ha.