I haven't had a lot of time over the festive season to post because I've been racking up the overtime so looking forward to February! I haven't had any days that were worthy of a full post to themselves however so I thought I'd take an assortment of the weird and wonderful calls from the last fortnight or so.
I am absolutely astonished at the lack of respect some offspring have for their parents. Although not a parent myself I have always respected mine (barring a phase in the teens!) and I thought this was normal.
I was called to an address after someone had been seen causing a disturbance - possible break in. Parade tea put down and off into the night in a wash of blue. On arrival the communal door was open, but I could see a bloke sitting quite happily in front of the TV in the front room so I knocked on the door - albeit cautiously. After a lot of banging and "Police - open up please" the door was finally opened. My colleague walked in first and immediately asked for me to call an ambulance. Strange. I looked into the room and could see an elderly female lying on the ground with a fair bit of blood splattered about, on closer inspection it was coming from her nose. The guy who had been watching TV was her son - who quickly resumed his cigarette and whatever programme was on after letting us in. He seemed totally unfazed by his elderly and ill mother lying on the floor in a pool of blood.
He never explained why he hadn't called an ambulance, I think he just didn't care.
Another call to an address off our patch for a "suicidal" female. We realised on arrival it was in the ominous tower block in front of us. I tested my new drop key - and it worked - up to the flat we went. The operator had said the female sounded drunk on the phone as did the person shouting in the background. As I approached the door I could already smell the stale booze and 'gloved up' before knocking on the door. I was glad I had when the door opened to reveal the most putrid dwelling (inhabited by the living) so far. The carpets were worn down to the underlay, the toilet looked like it hadn't been flushed for years and was stained permanently round the bowl. I could see the bed stacked up with various mouldy bits of magazines and shopping bags - plus the empty bottles of white lightning (3l for £1.50). Oddly there seemed to be half eaten slices of bread all over the flat - but I won't describe the kitchen!
The inhabitant told us her mate who was a street dweller who she was friendly with had been getting depressed and mentioned suicide so she called police.
"How much have you had to drink?"
"only one"
"I mean today not in the last ten minutes" (I felt like saying)
I confirmed that ambulance was on way on the radio and they arrived soon afterwards. The street dweller didn't really need any medical or police attention so we waited while she packed her bag and left the flat as she had outstayed her welcome. I then witnessed the most surreal conversation.
Street dweller takes a swig of super strong lager
Occupant - "Oi that's my drink - you're a ****ing alcoholic!"
SD - "You're a ****ing alcoholic!"
O - "Yeh but you're a greedy one!"
Me - "There must be a distinct difference.."
O & SD - "Eh?!"
Obviously a lot of strange stuff goes on in this job, which is one of the interesting parts of it. I will aim to post a full day account when I have one but I am away from work for most of this month. However, I have some older drafts that I may be able to post in the interim
Bear with me
Tyler
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2 comments:
In the first incident, had the bloke actually punched his mother or something? I mean, how did she end up on the floor with a bleeding nose?
He sounds like one of my brothers - he didn't happen to be engrossed in Stargate did he?
the everyday saga of chavsville eh? lovely!
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