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Justin's AnswerView 9 Other Answers
Justin FreemanJustin Freeman, Former Patrol Officer
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There are two classes of the least enjoyed - the investigations that are undesirable because the crime is heinous, and the investigations that are undesirable because they're a pain in the neck.

Items from the first class are pretty easy to guess:
  • Child molestation/rape (yes, above homicide - always involves a true victim)
  • Homicide / suicide
  • Fatality DWI (all fatals are tragic, but not so senselessly tragic)
  • Elder abuse
  • Domestic violence

As most of those are common sense, I would surmise that the question is chasing after the second class. Of those, each officer has his favorites and his peeves. A compendium of my least enjoyed enforcement: <rant>
  • Leaving the Scene of an Accident. Just ganked that yield and crunched someone's car? If you stay, all kinds of benign to mild things can happen. First, the other person may not want to do anything - you might have had the good fortune of hitting someone with an active arrest warrant, who will forgo restitution for the car to keep themselves out of jail - it's happened more than once. Or they may just want to swap info. Worst case, I come, jot down some notes, and you get two municipal citations (here, Failure to Yield Right of Way and Striking a Lawfully Operating Motor Vehicle). It's like $150 after court costs. Sure, it sucks, but your driving sucks - it's car-ma.

    Now let's review what happens when you leave. The other driver zeroes in on your license plate, rattles it off and repeats it verbally in a loop until they can write it down or text it to themselves. I arrive and get a Post-It note or a cell phone shoved in my face while the victim screams at me, bouncing up and down and furiously pointing in your last known direction of travel. I become instantly and fantastically pissed, because you just tripled my paperwork and added one or two hours to my workload. To put a cherry on that sludge sundae, I work the accident weathering merciless questions about what happens next, what happens next, what happens next, and denying solicitations of promises about finding you.

    Oh, but I will find you, because my rage has taken your status from "Vehicle #2" to "prey." I plug in the license plate, get your address, and go to your house. When I get there, I don't write you a ticket - that courtesy is through. Bai bai diplomacy, no more diplomacy - your diplomacy priv-il-eg-es are through. You are going to jail. You will not pass Go. You will not collect $200. I hated LSOAs.

  • Past Residential Burglary / Stealing From a Vehicle. So you left your door unlocked, huh? Somebody exploited that fact and jacked your stuff? That bites. Oh, you want me to write about it? Hmm...'Vic neglected to utilize sole security feature in residence/vehicle's point of ingress. Unknown subject accessed residence/vehicle and stole ___________. No further information.' That should cover it. Oh, you swear to God you locked it? Well, unless the perpetrator is the resurrected Jesus Christ or Patrick Swayze circa 1990 (and that's completely unrealistic - you know, since that M.O. doesn't fit either of them), you're going to have to explain the lack of damage to the door with whatever manner of strained logic you wish. Come to think of it, though, it could have been Jesus - I happen to know he takes issue with your swearing to God (Matthew 5:34).

    Oh, so your apartment got broken into and you refuse to allow me to investigate (true story, folks)? Bye, but as I'm leaving, two tips: One, pay your dealer on time, and two, find an offsite location for your stash. I know, I wax prickish - there are true victims of these crimes. However, and I apologize, there is more often than not scant little I can do about it. Unless your car and house interiors are covered in glass, I'm not going to get good prints. I know, I know - CSI gewgaws this, Cold Case techniques that. Listen, I've got a glorified tackle box that contains a glorified foundation brush and carbon dust. Unless somebody died during the course of the burglary, that's literally it. It's all I've got, it's all I have time for (95% of the time), and I'm not calling a Major Crimes Investigator out because my lieutenant would chew my face off. I mean, I'll try, but please don't hold your breath here.

    And when you replace the TV, for God's sake, write down the serial number. Seriously, it takes two seconds - and in a lot of cities, if they try to pawn your item, it'll get red flagged as stolen. Short of that, it's just another TV.

  • Petty Shoplifting, ESPECIALLY Juveniles. If a convicted felon is bebopping out of your store with $1,400 worth of clothes (happened), I am frickin' ON THAT like dots on dice. However, if a fourteen year old girl palms a $1 bracelet with a kitty on it (also happened), I...sigh. Yes, I know it's CORPORATE POLICY to press charges. Here's what I also know. I can't cite a minor criminally, so I get to call the county juvenile office. They'll obviously tell me to release to a parent. I'll call parent, who was invariably 1) at work or 2) out of town. Either way, I get to sit there and stare at a fourteen year old girl who is either 1) violently sobbing or 2) completely nonplussed to the point of eye-rolling and disdainful sighs. After the nigh-unto-forever wait, I write a meaningless report that goes to the JO. They flag her school file for administrative probation. Justice!

  • Fireworks Calls on Independence Day. Wai - hold the phone. Someone. In your neighborhood. Is shooting fireworks at 7:30 pm on...the Fourth of July!?!? Please hold the line while we page the SWAT team. If it's any deterrent, these callers were colloquially referred to as 'communists' on the department. Here's how that call response goes: I barrel down the street and open my window without slowing down. Unless I hear artillery shells going off, see a structure fire or see a column of hellfire scorching the atmosphere, I'm back in service.

    I mean, come on - your neighbors save you the expense and second degree burns and put on a free fireworks show, so you call the cops on them, sitting in your smug little house with your smug little self and expecting me to be the douchebag who sets all of the children to crying?

And really, when has a denizen of Bikini Bottom ever led you astray?