After being issued a gun, a badge, and a preferred customer account at Dunkin’ Donuts, I was ready to hit the streets. The adrenaline level was high. “Officer 42 from Northern dispatch,” crackled the radio. My first call! What would it be? Liquor store robbery? Bank heist at Holmes student center? Gun fight at McDonald’s?
“42, check on the rollerbladers skating down the stairs by Lowden Hall.”
Rollerbladers!?? What about all the danger and excitement I was promised?? What kind of benign, crime-free place was this? Disgusted, I responded to the scene of the “crime” and approached the young delinquents. I tapped one of the violators on the shoulder at the exact moment that his feet went out from under him and he landed on his tailbone with an audible thud. Luckily, a convention of news photographers was passing by just then so that the next day’s headlines could portray police/citizen relations in the best possible light. My supervisor was not amused when I proceeded to draw a chalk outline around the sprawled-out little hoodlum.
All I can say is "Wow! What a rush!"