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Rave sucks, but when you’re stuck in there, tripping your balls off, catching sight of this and becoming so transfixed with it that you start developing religious theories about asses, it actually starts to make perfect sense. Comments/Enlarge | See all






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Bitter much? At this point, it’s all old hat. A veteran cop has seen the dead bodies, the mangled victims, and the filthy apartments a thousand times. He just wants to do his job and go home—and he knows the job like second nature now, too. He can set up the crime scene, get the witnesses together, bring the guy in off the ledge, and talk any perp into cuffs. In fact, at this point a cop knows the job better than many supervisors, some of whom were in elementary school when he was in the academy. The smart bosses use this knowledge and confer with their veteran officers. Vets have seniority, and their vacation picks and days off are usually honored. They might get the occasional asshole boss, but by year ten they know that the old saying, “This too shall pass,” applies to the NYPD more than any other job on earth.

Most veteran cops have a second gig somewhere. Maybe they do some carpentry, or a little mason work, or they install sprinkler systems. Whatever it is, they are likely to be more concerned with that on a day-to-day basis than with their NYPD career.

By year ten, most cops know where they’re going to be for the rest of their time on the force. With this knowledge comes freedom: If you aren’t trying to go anywhere, the bosses can’t hold anything over you. If you put your head down and do your job, you will steer clear of the brass—and that’s all a vet really wants.

One of the few things that can get still get a rise out of a vet is to start talking about the policymakers that control his life. Holy shit do they get mad. You should hear them talk about NYPD Commissioner Ray Kelly. They call him Popeye and spend hours putting together jpegs of him in a sailor suit with a can of spinach. It sounds pretty comical, but deep down they’re really hurt by bosses like him. He’s forgotten what it’s like to be a cop in uniform, and the old guys hate that.

“The PD brass,” one vet told us, “is made up of yes men and political appointees. They could give a shit about the rest of us and it shows.”


CONTINUED:

A Cop's Life: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Next>


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Comments

Anonymous, on Jun 9, 2009 wrote:
4 years ago I loved this job. Now I can’t stand to come to work. I get in the shower to come to work and think, "how is the brass gonna fuck the silver badge today?" My chief is a pussy who was never a cop, and anybody over Sgt has a gaping vagina that spits out discipline for the most minor of infractions. Morale is in the toilet, haven’t had a raise in 6 years, no new equipment for years, and were the 2nd biggest department in the state. I can’t wait to retire or even find a new job.
Anonymous, on Apr 15, 2009 wrote:
this was great, I really enjoyed reading this.
Anonymous, on Apr 15, 2009 wrote:
this was great, I really enjoyed reading this.

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