An interesting conversation came up on the way out tonight. Chuck and I and a few others were on our way out after a busy and fairly crazy night. About half way up the walk Chuck sees a rolled up baggie laying in the grass and goes over to investigate.
Luckily for him, it was empty.
If he had actually found something, it would have caused several hours of paperwork and taking pictures and logging and filing everything and dealing with evidence bags and tape and doing a narcotics test, etc.
Instead of someone saying "Good deal. Let's just dump that in the toilet and call it good." it would have become a major hassle and entailed hours of crap. They just can't give you a gold star for your forehead and call it a day around here.
I said "It would be just my luck to walk out and find a bag of dope in the parking lot. Then I'd never get home." And someone in the back piped up and said "Frack it. Just take it home and smoke it. Less paperwork that way."
Sadly enough, that's true. By using some weird sort of aversion therapy, they are training us not to do the right thing by being so difficult. If I found a bag of dope on the street, I could take it to a cop and say "Here, I just found this over there. Will you dispose of it for me?" And he would most likely do it, no questions asked, just to get it off of the streets.
But not here.
Somehow... somewhere... it seems that our priorities have gone terribly wrong.
Update: After reading this entry the following morning I just want to state for the record that I wouldn't take it home and smoke it. I'm not that foolish. Generally, anyway.
I'm on my own today - *A few years ago, Cliff was down at Versailles with his brother, Phil. I don't recall why they were there or why I wasn't, but when Cliff got home, he tol...
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