My work neighbor (partner, as he calls me) is an ex-sheriff texan with a strong draw and a power struggle. He may be my work nemesis but the jury is still out. It’s when he calls me on the phone when he needs something, despite working in offices with paper thin walls, so I get a good surround sound effect or at the times when I truly need his assistance and he is pre-occupied with a personal cell call or an instant message conversation.
Yesterday Mr. I’ll-call-you-Miss-almost-as-direct-insult-of-your-new-Mrs.-Status asked me if I’d done any arrests or pat downs. I gave him a disturbed face, “No! I come from a county where we don’t do arrests…we call law enforcement for that!” He then explained he would be arresting a female client in his office and would need my assistance to pat her down. Perhaps I should watch someone who has been trained in such shenanigans but everyone agreed it wasn’t a big deal. “Well…. I’ve seen COPS.”
The female client wasn’t a screaming lunatic or even a safety threat. She just smelled bad. I did my obligatory pat, pleased to see she had chosen to wear shorts (avoiding the ankle touch) and her shirt was tight enough to confirm no hidden weapons. It was the under the b pat that I refused to administer. No thank you, kindly. Even after my non-frisky frisk I left the room in shame and discomfort.
1 comment:
YIKES
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