I know I go on about how busy & stressful working in a police control room can be. And remember, I did well over 25 years on the front line. But sometimes it can be very, very Q.
When I first went into the control room, on one night shift I quite innocently said “It’s a bit quiet isn’t it?”. It was like I’d just announced that the Pope was a devil-worshipping baby-eater. “My God, he said the ‘Q’ word”, “That’s done it!” Word spread round the whole room that someone had mentioned the ‘Q’ word. It’s so sacrosanct that they don’t even allow themselves to say the full word, such is the power.
Once the word is mentioned it doesn’t matter how long you’ve sat on your arse not giving out jobs, orÃ‚Â notdoing PNC checks for officers, the next person walking down the High Street will get GBH’d or murdered, a petrol tanker will crash into a coach load of schoolkids on the motorway & a Jumbo Jet will overshoot the runway & crash into a hospital.
On my last day I’m going to run round the room like that little old fellar in ‘The Life of Brian’ who is released from a life in chains, shouts out “I’m free, I’m free” & promptly falls into a bottomless pit. Except I’m going to shout out repeatedly “IT’S QUIET IN HERE”.