Random Event #1 that inspires my loving the Des Moines Police Department
I get a call from my supervisor asking me if I am at a certain apartment complex I do patrol duties at. I tell him I left the place 10 minutes prior and am 2 blocks away. He informs me that the dispatcher with DMPD called him saying they received a call that I was getting the crap kicked out of me by a group of people at the aforementioned apartment building. And in the confusion, the call to them was made by me. Three things here. One, if I'm going to call the cops, I'd either do it prior to a situation escalating to a fight, or after myself or the other parties had finished the fight. In the midst of the fight, I'm not exactly going to have the ability to pul out my cell phone and make a call as I am having my head kicked in. Secondly, I would have radioed or called the supervisor alerting him to the situation. And lastly, and most importantly, I'm not about to pick a fight I don't think I can win. I'm sort of partial to living a pain free life.
I look around myself, and notice that outside of the cleaners inside the university, I'm free and clear of any other people by about 2 blocks. Its nice to be getting beat up by people 2 blocks away from where I'm at. All that action and none of the pain. It's kind of like acting tough on the internet. I don't have to prove myself to be a badass around here! Now you're asking yourself, why does this make me love the DMPD? It is because once they were alerted to this Super Rentacop getting beat up, 4, count em FOUR, squad cars made it to my supposed location in record time. Yep, I hold sway with the DMPD. They hear about me getting myself in trouble, and they are right there to rescue my butt from any danger. My supervisor pulled up and said that all the cops had their night sticks out ready to beat up some stupid morons who were daring to harm their precious local security guard.
Random Event #2 that inspires my loving the Des Moines Police Department
2 days after event number 1, I am called to an alarm at a local Midas car repair shop. I arrive to find a rock had been thrown through the glass front door. A small tv was discovered to have been stolen, but beyond that nothing. My supervisor showed up to inspect the damage, and during that time, 2 squad cars showed up and the police entered this building, much of which could be entirely viewed from the outside, with .40 caliber glocks drawn and ready to put down another possible criminal who might have tried to hurt this Super Rentacop. According to my supervisor, the lead officer there was one of those who showed up at Event #1.
I'm beginning to suspect a man-crush is developing between the esteemed officer and this local security guard. I'm not sure how to break that kind of news to my wife, but if there really is a man crush going on, I may be, out of professional courtesy, obligated to return the affection. Now, you might ask, just how I can help protect the fully armed and trained police officer who comes to my rescue regularly? Well, I'll tell you. First of all, I'm highly trained. I watched something like 8 hours of instructional videos before being put out into the field. Second point is, I have a 3 cell maglite. You can blind someone, or mess them up with that kind of armament. While the cop may be in a standoff with an armed criminal, I can easily put myself between the cop and sure mortal danger by flipping my tie and whistle chain at the bad guy, and shining my flashlight on him. And of course, threaten to write up a report. Pretty much upon my arrival, I can send the officer off to other more important tasks for the night, like protecting the local convenience store coffee and donuts. After all, I'm not there, so someone needs to make sure precious such commodities need qualified supervision. And also, my presence alone assures the officer he is safe to "move along, there is nothing to see here."
Surely, no criminal is safe from such harsh tactics brought on by a pretty rentacop like myself. I suspect he'd gladly give himself up to me almost immediately. At 5'8" tall and 175 pounds of rock solid jello-like mass, I am an intimidating S.O.B. I drive a car with a big old lightbar that only half lights up, all white lights, and I can stick my head out the window and make siren noises while flying down the city streets. I yell out "WOOP WOOP, RENTACOPS", and all dangerous situations quickly end! People respect that kind of crazy!