Monday, Monday

by Joyce Tremel

I’ve had a lot of people ask me what it’s like working for a police department. My answer could be anything from “It’s cool,” to “I hate this &*%$# place,” depending on what day it is. Never ask me on a Monday.

Since the office is closed on the weekends, everyone and their uncle usually decides to call me on Monday morning. On Mondays, I have police reports from Friday, Saturday and Sunday to enter. Even with two of us working on them, it’s sometimes late Tuesday before they’re all done. Nothing irritates me more than someone calling bright and early asking for a copy of their accident report because the officer “told me to call first thing Monday morning.” Over the last eight years, most of the guys have learned NOT to do this. That’s probably the reason one guy asked me why I parked my broom in the squad room once. I was in a generous mood that day—I let him live.

Mondays are also the days when the guys will be in a panic because they don’t have things like Wite-Out, tape, staples, etc. For some reason, they don’t think to tell me this on Friday, even though they ran out on Wednesday. I guess I’m supposed to read their minds, too. I’ve never seen a group of people run out of Wite-Out as often as they do. I don’t see it on the reports that much, so I’m not exactly sure where they use it. Come to think of it, I probably don’t want to know.

What’s the best day to ask me if I like my job? Thursday, of course. It’s my day off!