No Wonder I Have Swine Flu!
Cops, no offense to any who might be eyeing my car's expired registration sticker or noticing that I'm riding my bike on the sidewalk downtown, are pricks.
Complete, utter, lost-to-all-hope, straight-up, down-low, doughnut-scarfing, power-hungry, small-minded, pig-brained, sexists, the lot of them (with the sole exception of those who aren't). Um, not that there's anything wrong with that.
I spent the day today in emergency management systems training, and another full day of the same awaits me tomorrow. Various different state agencies are in my class. Most of them are members (probably not very large ones) of law enforcement groups.
These people are good at their jobs, and their jobs are needed; I don't mean to imply otherwise. It's just that the kind of person to whom this sort of job appeals just so happens to be a complete asshole.
My work, during emergency management operations, has nothing to do with saving lives or making the world a materially better place. All I do is disseminate information about what those big boys are actually accomplishing: I reassure the public that emergency operations are safely in hand, tell them the number to call to find their elderly relatives, or where they might find a hotel that won't turn them away with their dog, or a good resource for getting emergency prescriptions filled if they've left home without paperwork. Really, when you get down to it, it's "fluff" work - though I tend to think of it as fairly noble, when you consider I used to be in marketing.
I don't like being looked down upon, though, it pisses me off. Today in class, we had to brainstorm several different "real-life" emergency scenarios. The others at my table, cops and professional emergency management officials, actually have dealt with this sort of situation before, whereas it's all fairly hypothetical to me. We're all supposed to participate in class, but my silly, hesitant, ignorant suggestions were summarily shot down with a great deal of condescension by the heavy-necked thug next to me - who obviously considered me little more than a fluffy little travel industry bunny.
He was armed, but I bet a stiletto heel would have put him out of commission fairly quickly, if I'd been so inclined. The element of surprise, you know. No one expects to get stabbed by the fluffy bunny!
Especially if I lure them into a false sense of security first by offering doughnuts.