Four Cops, Two Paramedics, and One Crime Writer

That's how many people it took to wake one man up to go to work. There is humour in the police officer's job. That's one thing I'm learning from the ride-alongs I've been on over the past two years. It's a tough, often unpleasant, job and they put their lives on the line every day. But boy, do they get a good laugh some times.

One time, the car I was in was called to a home where a man wasn't answering the door to his friend who had come to take him to work. It was the usual time and the usual routine, and the friend was worried because the man had a medical condition.

When we got there, the officer banged on the door, and bellowed, and peered in windows, and banged and bellowed again. He called for an ambulance. Reinforcements arrived. Someone crouched down and yelled into the cat door. (And took a sniff - ug). Eventually there were four cops, two paramedics, and one crime writer at the top of a rickety set of stairs leading to the upstairs apartment. Permission to knock down the door was given, the door was kicked in, and everyone rushed in. Save me, who hung behind not wanting to see anything ucky. Then I heard a shout, "XX, what are you doing in bed. Aren't you going to work?" Yup, the guy was tucked up in bed. Didn't feel like going to work, didn't bother phoning in, and didn't particularly want to get up and open the door.

Out we all trooped, one crime writer, two paramedics, four cops, leaving XX in bed and a broken door.