To Protect and To Serve?

I used to think the police existed to help people. That’s it, nothing fancy. Through my 6 year old eyes I saw their blue and white vehicles, the walkie-talkies they held close to call for help, and the guns in their holsters in case bad guys tried to get me. They circled neighborhood blocks wearing the proud emblem “To Protect and To Serve.” Unfortunately, whoever originated that tag line left out a few choice words. I suppose I understand the reasoning. Police cars with “To Protect the Cities Budget and To Serve Parking Tickets” written on the door wouldn’t instill much confidence in its citizens. In fact, they’d probably run from the police as they would from a street gang. The parallels between these 2 groups are uncanny. They both have weapons, they usually work in teams, and they’ve come to steal our money.

Now if I sound a little harsh, allow me to clarify that I don’t blame the police entirely. They didn’t make these rules, they just abide by them. Luca Brasi never went out and killed anybody ‘because he was looking for kicks on a Friday night. He waited until he was sent for by Don Corleone, who then instructed him accordingly. Police officers get their assignments from their superiors, just like anyone who works in an office building, movie theatre, or restaurant. You aren’t allowed to make independent decisions, and if you are you must do so within a certain set of guidelines. One’s moral values or conscience don’t typically factor into the equation. When you decide you can no longer work under these restrictions, that’s the day you quit your job.

Unfortunately, most if not all decisions made by owners, business leaders, politicians, and state officials are about money. I used to think police officers were different. Like firefighters, they are revered in our culture as those who help people. Regrettably, I’ve seen, heard and experienced far too many situations in recent years that make me doubt their integrity. About 2 weeks ago, a girl and her friends were lost around 3 am in a part of the city so sketchy they couldn’t even get a cab to stop. They approached a near-by police car with 2 men chatting and sipping their coffee. The girl asked them if it would be possible to take them where they needed to go, only about a 5 minute drive. They said no. They must have been very busy at this time of night. The girl next asked them nervously if she and her friends would be safe standing where they were in this neighborhood. The driver shrugged his shoulders and responded indifferently, “you should be aright.” Translation: ‘It’s not my job to worry about you. I’m paid to sit right here.’ If this tale doesn't inspire your confidence in our police-force, maybe this one will.

A different friend, someone who is about as responsible as they come, parked overnight on a busy downtown street. On the way to move his car at 7:30am the next morning (parking meters activate at 8am), he discovered that virtually all cars had disappeared on his side of the street. He scrambled to find a sign other than the legitimate resident parking one in front of where his car had been parked. He walked a full city block to find a smaller sign, covered by leaves, which read “Street Cleaning, 5am-7am” for that particular day. Speaking of which, has anybody ever actually seen a city street being cleaned? Am I crazy or do the streets always look the same? Could the whole business of street cleaning be a myth perpetuated for the purpose of ticketing?

Anyway, my friend ran back to his apartment, searching for the names of towing companies (since nobody is ever notified where their car is taken) until he found the bastards who had it. He eventually got a ride from a friend whom he subsequently made late for work. Upon arriving and paying a ludicrous $110 towing fee, he asked the pawn at the cashier window if they’ve always towed cars for parking in a street cleaning area. She answered no, they used to merely ticket, but this was kind of a new trend as police were cracking down. After making his way to his car, my friend found that awful orange rectangle stuck in his windshield wiper. What the hell was this? He got a $40 ticket in addition to the original $110! He went back to the window perplexed and was dismayed to discover that this $40 was separate. To add insult to injury, the woman explained that the city contacted their towing company only weeks earlier and told them to tour that very street weekly and take any cars "in the wrong" without warning. They never used to tow unless they were called, but now they were supposed to go out of their way to look for cars parked illegally? My friend decided to contest the ticket for multiple reasons, though his appeal will undoubtedly be read once, laughed at, and responded to in the most perfunctory fashion without justification. “Your appeal was denied. Please pay an egregious sum of money to the city of Boston.”

Is the primary goal of trained police men and women to make money for the city? To ticket it’s hard working citizens and make life as inconvenient as possible? An acquaintance of a friend of mine who used to be a cop said he had been expected to meet or at least approach a certain monthly quota for number of tickets given. Typing that last sentence nearly made me vomit. What do they do with these thousands and thousands of dollars that come in every day? Does the police chief fly to Vegas and throw $300,000 down on red 19 at the roulette table? Do all the cops in the city meet in an abandoned warehouse and throw a party, drinking champagne and laughing at the average Joe’s who paid for it?

“Good evening Officer Smith, would you like steak or lobster tonight?”

“It feels like a surf-n-turf night captain.”

I suppose joking about these situations is my way of coping and preventing me from becoming angrier than I already am. Was it always this way? I’d like to think not. The 9 year-old version of me didn’t read any books entitled “Officer Johnson Tickets a Buick” or “The Berenstein Bears Visit the Office of the Parking Clerk.” But watching my youthful exuberance slowly deteriorate, maturing (God, I hate that word!) into the somewhat resentful 26 year old I am now, I have to wonder. To quote Jerry Maguire, “We live in a cynical world.” However, I don’t think people are inherently cynical. Rather, we conduct our lives, develop our personalities, and form our opinions as a result of the society we live in. And unfortunately, ours continues to reinforce a slogan we'd all be better off without; "It's all about the money."