…been √ā¬†sending officers to offer a personal, tax-funded parenting taxi service for recalcitrant teenage girls who can’t be arsed to do what they’re told.
I can’t believe we have to put up with this shit, day in, day out.
What happens is Ms Single-Parent calls the old bill when little 15-year-old Chelsea decides she doesn’t need to follow the rules and wants to spend the night drinking fruit-flavoured vodka whilst being fingered on the swings by however many similarly recalcitrant spotty oiks happen to be out that night.
Mum usually says something along the lines of: “I want to report my daughter missing, again, they said if it happened again you’d go and collect her and bring her home.”
Of course the reply from the calltaker should be something like, “fuck off, who do you think we are, a free parenting taxi service, get off your arse, switch off the Sky box and go and get her yourself, you lazy cow.”
To which the reply will be either, “I’ve had a bit to drink” – funny how many parents are drinking the night their kids go AWOL – or, “I can’t leave the house ‘cos I’ve got six babies asleep.”
Whereupon the old bill turns round, lifts up it’s corporate trousers and shouts “take me roughly and don’t bother about the lube.” In other words, they create a log entitled “Missing Person.”
We then spend the rest of the shift driving round the town looking for Chelsea, knocking on all the addresses she’s been found before and generally doing stuff that a particular group in society should be doing, they’re called ‘parents’.
We sometimes do this several days running, and it’s not unusual to do it several times in the same shift. I’ve lost count of the times we’ve had a call from Ms (or, to be fair it is sometimes Mrs or Mr) Single-Parent (though it’s not√ā¬†exclusively√ā¬†single parents) saying, “As soon as the police left, Chelsea ran out the back door again.
We do this time and time again, meanwhile all the people who have been burgled and have been waiting 8 hours to see an officer get a phone call at 11 or 12 at night from their local constabulary saying, “Sorry we’ve had nobody free, are you√ā¬†available√ā¬†tomorrow?”, again.
The reason we do it is because nobody has the bottle to say to parents, sorry, that’s your job. And the reason nobody has the bottle to say this is because if Chelsea ends up face down in a ditch or the lads on the swings go too far, it will be the fault of the police.