Thursday, July 8, 2010

A Watched Phone Never Rings

"Why don't they want me?" He had a forlorn look on his face, and his entire demeanor was that of the last kid being picked in Gym.

"Who knows why? They're idiots, that's why! I mean, you already have police training, for God's sake! You're a stand-up member of Society! You don't need them, screw them! They're the ones that are missing out!" I was really good at revving up my engine and calling on some righteous indignation in a time of need.

"I mean, do you think it's that they're full?" He pondered this and then pulled a face.

"Well, I'm sure they've got people banging down their door to make the literal shitload of money they're offering." Did I mention I'm good at sarcasm too?

When Rocco went to enter the Academy, the starting salary for cops was $25,000 per year.

This was less than five years ago.

We live in New York, people.

He's risking his life.

I can go on, but I'm sure you get the picture.

And then...just as I was putting the kettle up for a second round of caffeine-laced tea, the phone rang. I let him get it.

He was on and off the phone in two seconds flat.

I turned to look at him and his face said it all.

He was set to report on January 10th.

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