The portfolio is handed in.
I’m mere days from being confirmed in rank.
It’s a relief on the one hand; free from the self-induced stigma of the extension, and the oh-so-welcome pay rise.
You’re the first group to gain the NVQ qualification gushed the training staff back in the mists of time when we commenced out training.
Wonderful. I’ve yet to meet any fellow candidate who was particularly thrilled at gaining the qualification, or more importantly ever wanted it in the first place.
An NVQ level four equals something like a foundation degree so I’m told. Another line on the CV should I ever change jobs. But what does an NVQ in policing qualify me for exactly?
Whatever. I don’t care anymore.
Just bring on the pay rise.
Work are cracking down more than ever on using the internet at work; outside of work any murmurings on Facebook and the like trickle back to the station at lightening speed.
The higher-ups increasingly seem to deny we have life other than what is spelt out in PACE.
Seems the public couldn’t care if we get a break either.
Recently I was in a supermarket on my patch. Granted I was on uniformed duty, but I was tired. Hungry.
I parked my patrol car outside and strode into the store to get some refreshments.
Immediately eyebrows were raised as soon as the customers got a glimpse of my uniform. I could almost hear the whispers: Ooo, where’s the shoplifter then?
None here today.
I meander around the aisles and then dutifully I queue up with my coke, sandwich and Kit-Kat. I grab a copy of The Guardian to read in the evening at home.
A couple of twenty-somethings shift impatiently behind me.
What he doing in here? Hasn’t he got time to be out on the streets? One says under their breath to the other.
I turn my head to look at them and bring myself up to my full 6’3” stature.
What I did say, casually:
Sorry, did one of you say something to me?
No, no… They fluster.
I turn back towards the checkout and hear a nervous giggle behind me.
I continue queuing and stride purposefully back out the store.
Mercilessly the radio remains quiet still.
What I should have said:
You try working eleven fucking hours without a break.
Showing posts with label aarrgghh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aarrgghh. Show all posts
Monday, December 01, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Close, but...
Barring any major catastophies I'm now led to believe that I should be 'signed off' within the coming month.
Just a few more lines of bullshit on my learning portfolio then a whole host of signatures and that should be it over and done with.
I don't know if I'll ever get the portfolio back into my custody, but I've already realised it'd make a pretty good draft-excluder...
So by 'signed off' I mean - confirmed in rank, and job, as a constable.
Those of you who have followed my story, somewhat muted as it is these days, will note that I haven't had the easiest route to this destination.
Though faults may have been my own, and those of others, my goal is within sight.
Now the question rears its head "What next?"
Just a few more lines of bullshit on my learning portfolio then a whole host of signatures and that should be it over and done with.
I don't know if I'll ever get the portfolio back into my custody, but I've already realised it'd make a pretty good draft-excluder...
So by 'signed off' I mean - confirmed in rank, and job, as a constable.
Those of you who have followed my story, somewhat muted as it is these days, will note that I haven't had the easiest route to this destination.
Though faults may have been my own, and those of others, my goal is within sight.
Now the question rears its head "What next?"
Monday, February 11, 2008
Bringing the noise
You're in a car travelling at the national speed limit on an single carriage way main arterial road that bisects a county somewhere in the northern midlands.
It's mid-afternoon.
Conditions are good; bright sunshine, good visibility, dry, only a slight breeze.
Traffic is fairly light; however you share your 1/2 mile section of the road with an articulated lorry and a few other cars in front of you, all neatly spaced using the two-second rule.
Your car is placed in the centre of your side of the carriageway. The road is straight for the most, although there are frequent hidden dips and blind hill-crests on this section of the road
Suddenly your happy drive is disturbed by the unmistakable two-tone siren, blue flashing lights, strobes and alternate headlight flashes of a police vehicle on an emergency call approaching at a high rate of knots behind you.
In front of you, it appears that other vehicles have taken notice of the emergency vehicle and are responding accordingly.
Do you:
- Maintain your current speed and position
- Maintain your current speed and move your position to the nearside slightly
- Maintain your current speed and move your position to the offside slightly
- Come to a halt, regardless of your location on your side of the carriageway
- Come to a halt on the nearside, in a dip in the road
- Come to a halt on the nearside, on the crest of a hill
- Slow down slightly and indicate in to the nearside, however not stopping
- Consider this a perfect opportunity to overtake the vehicles in front
The 'correct' answer I will reveal in due course. Suffice as to say I saw examples of ALL on the road today, during week three of my police driver training.
*sigh*
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Women!
A plea...
Not content with the fact that ¾ of high-street fashion retailers cater to your tastes, why do you ladies insist on clogging up the aisles in every single men’s department?
I know plenty of lads are useless shoppers but not all of us are.
Some of us guys wish to peruse the men’s departments in shops without having to continually squeeze past ladies discussing if said garment would be just right for the man in their life.
I mean we leave you alone in women’s shops don’t we?
Granted, I must admit that whenever girlfriend saunters into a ladies fashion shop I usually declare it a perfect opportunity for me to go down the road to HMV…
The other thing that’s annoying me at the moment?
People who don’t turn their Satnav’s on to ‘night mode’ at night.
Personally I prefer not to drive with what appears to be a torch shining in my face the whole journey.
Why?
Not content with the fact that ¾ of high-street fashion retailers cater to your tastes, why do you ladies insist on clogging up the aisles in every single men’s department?
I know plenty of lads are useless shoppers but not all of us are.
Some of us guys wish to peruse the men’s departments in shops without having to continually squeeze past ladies discussing if said garment would be just right for the man in their life.
I mean we leave you alone in women’s shops don’t we?
Granted, I must admit that whenever girlfriend saunters into a ladies fashion shop I usually declare it a perfect opportunity for me to go down the road to HMV…
The other thing that’s annoying me at the moment?
People who don’t turn their Satnav’s on to ‘night mode’ at night.
Personally I prefer not to drive with what appears to be a torch shining in my face the whole journey.
Why?
Monday, October 29, 2007
One day in the calendar
I don’t know where in my old age it started but Christmas lost its sparkle and mystery somewhere along the way.
Why is it each year that collectively we seem to loose all sense, spend such insane amounts of money, get far too emotional and over-indulgent, before swearing that we’ll not do it again next year.
It’s October.
And we’ve got weeks and weeks of this overkill still to go.
It’s only one day in the calendar for god sakes.
Be merry people; but keep your heads whilst all around you are losing theirs.
(With thanks to Kipling)
Why is it each year that collectively we seem to loose all sense, spend such insane amounts of money, get far too emotional and over-indulgent, before swearing that we’ll not do it again next year.
It’s October.
And we’ve got weeks and weeks of this overkill still to go.
It’s only one day in the calendar for god sakes.
Be merry people; but keep your heads whilst all around you are losing theirs.
(With thanks to Kipling)
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
My heart bleeds
Prisoners are upset at being kept in cells for most of the days because of the prison officer strike.
House price rises are at their slowest rate this year.
Boo fucking-hoo.
House price rises are at their slowest rate this year.
Boo fucking-hoo.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Headaches
Whether it be sinus problems, hay fever or just a really bad cold... I feel like crap.
This wasn't helped by the fact either that I've returned from work two days running with splitting headaches. Today's was so bad I came in at 18:00 and went straight to bed for three hours in an attempt to sleep it off. I've taken strides to make sure I'm not getting dehydrated with the sudden shock of better weather. However if this persists for three days running then I'm off to the docs.
Work is oh-kay, but not as enjoyable of late. Had a bit of a meeting with one of the supervisors and he politely told me that I need to up my figures. Whatever your experience or not, figures count. Target culture is gospel. It's sad really. And mighty frustrating too, just when I'm starting to really get a handle on one aspect of my job, the crime workload, something else bubbles up that you're supposed to keep in check. All these whilst providing a response service to the public and doing study NVQ work at home.
It's not hard to see now why some officers burn themselves out awfully quickly.
This wasn't helped by the fact either that I've returned from work two days running with splitting headaches. Today's was so bad I came in at 18:00 and went straight to bed for three hours in an attempt to sleep it off. I've taken strides to make sure I'm not getting dehydrated with the sudden shock of better weather. However if this persists for three days running then I'm off to the docs.
Work is oh-kay, but not as enjoyable of late. Had a bit of a meeting with one of the supervisors and he politely told me that I need to up my figures. Whatever your experience or not, figures count. Target culture is gospel. It's sad really. And mighty frustrating too, just when I'm starting to really get a handle on one aspect of my job, the crime workload, something else bubbles up that you're supposed to keep in check. All these whilst providing a response service to the public and doing study NVQ work at home.
It's not hard to see now why some officers burn themselves out awfully quickly.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Late night work worry
I get second thoughts about the job.
On the most frustrating days, even allowing for urgent incidents, I can struggle to investigate my own workload crimes.
What's worse is that from attending incidents you can pick up even more crimes for investigation to add to your ongoing allocated crimes.
What's most annoying though is when you get something allocated and told that it is your priority. Even though the things you've already got on your plate are supposed to be your priority.
Then an urgent comes in and that supersedes all previous priorities.
Later you're asked why you didn't do various things in time and why you haven't got 'X' number of ticks-in-boxes from your shifts on patrol.
Prioritisation is a skill, but there comes a point when you cannot split yourself into five bloody separate officers to do five different things.
Blame falls downwards. And one of the most depressing things about the job so far seems to be that sometimes it's not always about doing the right thing, but doing enough to cover your own back to deflect the downward cascade of blame, crap and shifting goalposts.
Because chronically stretched resources mean that you simply cannot do the right thing by everybody.
On the most frustrating days, even allowing for urgent incidents, I can struggle to investigate my own workload crimes.
What's worse is that from attending incidents you can pick up even more crimes for investigation to add to your ongoing allocated crimes.
What's most annoying though is when you get something allocated and told that it is your priority. Even though the things you've already got on your plate are supposed to be your priority.
Then an urgent comes in and that supersedes all previous priorities.
Later you're asked why you didn't do various things in time and why you haven't got 'X' number of ticks-in-boxes from your shifts on patrol.
Prioritisation is a skill, but there comes a point when you cannot split yourself into five bloody separate officers to do five different things.
Blame falls downwards. And one of the most depressing things about the job so far seems to be that sometimes it's not always about doing the right thing, but doing enough to cover your own back to deflect the downward cascade of blame, crap and shifting goalposts.
Because chronically stretched resources mean that you simply cannot do the right thing by everybody.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Target Culture
Shit falls downwards.
Which is why, as a junior responce officer I could not help but agree with the following articles...
Firstly the thoughts of the Police Federation - the closest coppers have to a 'union'.
Secondly the thoughts of an experienced beat bobby.
At the end of each shift my colleagues & I fill out what we affectionately call a 'bean counter'. Basically a 'ticks in boxes' grid of what incidents, arrests, tickets etc we've had in the course of each shift and fax it off to the relevant department.
Ah, the joy of paperwork.
Whilst I can kinda' see the point of measuring officers, the fact that some incidents we go to can tie us up all day and get us no 'ticks' at all is rather frustrating. We can spend entire shifts serving the public good in some way shape or form - but oh no... You can't measure that can you?
Which is why, as a junior responce officer I could not help but agree with the following articles...
Firstly the thoughts of the Police Federation - the closest coppers have to a 'union'.
Secondly the thoughts of an experienced beat bobby.
At the end of each shift my colleagues & I fill out what we affectionately call a 'bean counter'. Basically a 'ticks in boxes' grid of what incidents, arrests, tickets etc we've had in the course of each shift and fax it off to the relevant department.
Ah, the joy of paperwork.
Whilst I can kinda' see the point of measuring officers, the fact that some incidents we go to can tie us up all day and get us no 'ticks' at all is rather frustrating. We can spend entire shifts serving the public good in some way shape or form - but oh no... You can't measure that can you?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Figures
Where do they get these figures from?
I mean there's science... There's estimation... And pure guesswork, surely?
Quick scan at the news.
Currently 700,000 - or one person in every 88 in the UK - has dementia, incurring a yearly cost of £17bn.
A new report claims it will cost £76m to repair potholes on minor roads across Worcestershire.
The cost of the 2012 London Olympics could rise to nearly four times the figure set out in the city's bid for the Games, the BBC has learned. The Treasury and the Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) are discussing a price of £9bn - up from an initial figure of £2.35bn.
How much do all these reports cost?
Is it just me or is there an news report out each day saying something to the effect of...
"A new report out today says we're all going to die, everything is shit, things have failed, and frankly we're all buggered."
*sigh*
We may as well just sit down and die on our arses then.
I mean there's science... There's estimation... And pure guesswork, surely?
Quick scan at the news.
Currently 700,000 - or one person in every 88 in the UK - has dementia, incurring a yearly cost of £17bn.
A new report claims it will cost £76m to repair potholes on minor roads across Worcestershire.
The cost of the 2012 London Olympics could rise to nearly four times the figure set out in the city's bid for the Games, the BBC has learned. The Treasury and the Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) are discussing a price of £9bn - up from an initial figure of £2.35bn.
How much do all these reports cost?
Is it just me or is there an news report out each day saying something to the effect of...
"A new report out today says we're all going to die, everything is shit, things have failed, and frankly we're all buggered."
*sigh*
We may as well just sit down and die on our arses then.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Sale!
Rather hypocritically, considering the closing of my last entry, I escorted mum into the city to peruse the post-Christmas sales.
All I’m wondering is this. Why in the men’s departments or even in dedicated men’s-clothing stores are there just as many, or often more, women about than men? It’s bad enough battling the crowds of slavering shoppers, but isn’t there some little part part of the commercial district of a town that we can have to our grufty selves please? I don’t want to have to have every article of clothing that looks remotely nice immediately snatched out of my sight by the scarlet-tipped claws of some hyperactive girlfriend or wife cooing
“Ooo, I think Jeffrey would love that.”
I end up thinking to myself:
“Well fine then - get Geoffrey’s bloody arse down here then and get out of my way!! Hey lady, check that out - there’s 50% off at Monsoon!”
*Stampede*
All I’m wondering is this. Why in the men’s departments or even in dedicated men’s-clothing stores are there just as many, or often more, women about than men? It’s bad enough battling the crowds of slavering shoppers, but isn’t there some little part part of the commercial district of a town that we can have to our grufty selves please? I don’t want to have to have every article of clothing that looks remotely nice immediately snatched out of my sight by the scarlet-tipped claws of some hyperactive girlfriend or wife cooing
“Ooo, I think Jeffrey would love that.”
I end up thinking to myself:
“Well fine then - get Geoffrey’s bloody arse down here then and get out of my way!! Hey lady, check that out - there’s 50% off at Monsoon!”
*Stampede*
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
My brain hurts
Even learning it piece by piece, the scale of what we're expected to know is seriously scaring the crap out of me.
Week fifteen now and I've almost filled my third ring-binder full of PowerPoint presentations, lesson notes and miscellaneous reading.
How the hell am I supposed to digest all of that?
Even slimed down to the basic 'definition booklet' which is the core of what we'e supposed to learn, there's still over a hundred basic definitions to memorise; verbatim. I'm not talking one-liners either... Paragraphs worth, for each.
Some of us are planning revision meetings when it gets to that critical time before our final exams, because learning alone is not particularly conducive.
Plus it just reminds me about being cold and lonely anyway.
Which accurately describes the bed also, to which I will soon retire.
Week fifteen now and I've almost filled my third ring-binder full of PowerPoint presentations, lesson notes and miscellaneous reading.
How the hell am I supposed to digest all of that?
Even slimed down to the basic 'definition booklet' which is the core of what we'e supposed to learn, there's still over a hundred basic definitions to memorise; verbatim. I'm not talking one-liners either... Paragraphs worth, for each.
Some of us are planning revision meetings when it gets to that critical time before our final exams, because learning alone is not particularly conducive.
Plus it just reminds me about being cold and lonely anyway.
Which accurately describes the bed also, to which I will soon retire.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
What next?!
I mean, what is it with some people?
"A Christian lobby group has claimed the wearing of red poppies is "politically correct" and stifles debate."
Excuse my French, but go read any history of the First World War. Go and speak to a veteran, you absolute fuckwits.
And shame on you for tarnishing the name of millions of perfectly sensible Christians out there.
"A Christian lobby group has claimed the wearing of red poppies is "politically correct" and stifles debate."
Excuse my French, but go read any history of the First World War. Go and speak to a veteran, you absolute fuckwits.
And shame on you for tarnishing the name of millions of perfectly sensible Christians out there.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Words as weapons
Another shocking case, but it really pisses me off when an entire institution gets branded as being Institutionally Racist.
In two little words all of the good work done by the vast majority of employees of that service is torn apart. You simply should not paint everyone with the same brush.
There seems to be a cycle in the media at the moment of going through all our major public services, and tearing them apart. No wonder morale suffers.
I have no qualms whatsoever with highlighting disturbing cases, we all need to learn from the mistakes of others. However those chairing enquiries, and those in the media, should learn that words themselves are as damaging as weapons, and should not be banded about lightly.
In two little words all of the good work done by the vast majority of employees of that service is torn apart. You simply should not paint everyone with the same brush.
There seems to be a cycle in the media at the moment of going through all our major public services, and tearing them apart. No wonder morale suffers.
I have no qualms whatsoever with highlighting disturbing cases, we all need to learn from the mistakes of others. However those chairing enquiries, and those in the media, should learn that words themselves are as damaging as weapons, and should not be banded about lightly.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Normal service will resume shortly
Apologies for any of you trying to get hold of me on my usual email & msn address.
Still having some teething problems with my new, but otherwise sleek & sexy new system.
Still having some teething problems with my new, but otherwise sleek & sexy new system.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Surely it's just for effect?
One would hope.
Old news to any American liberals reading this no doubt, but my blood was positively boiling by the end of this article.
I would respond with equal vitriol in reply; but she clearly revels that.
Simply judge for yourself.
Just make sure you’re sitting comfortably...
Old news to any American liberals reading this no doubt, but my blood was positively boiling by the end of this article.
I would respond with equal vitriol in reply; but she clearly revels that.
Simply judge for yourself.
Just make sure you’re sitting comfortably...
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Outgunned
Gutted.
Who knows what an 11-man Arsenal could've have achieved?
18/05/06... So, NOW you go and change your mind?!
I'm boycotting Norway for a few days (see, us Swedes know they can't be trusted).
19/05/06... However, Theirry Henry signed a new contract with the Gunners today, keeping him at the club until 2010. Perhaps that's a greater prize after all.
Men are in awe of him, Women... Just love him. The man's a genius.
Who knows what an 11-man Arsenal could've have achieved?
18/05/06... So, NOW you go and change your mind?!
I'm boycotting Norway for a few days (see, us Swedes know they can't be trusted).
19/05/06... However, Theirry Henry signed a new contract with the Gunners today, keeping him at the club until 2010. Perhaps that's a greater prize after all.
Men are in awe of him, Women... Just love him. The man's a genius.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Limbo
Well this is great.
How to start a prospective trainee Police Constable off with low morale.
Rang the recruitment department this morning.
They still have no idea of a potential start date.
Recruitment hasn't heard anything from training, and training hasn't heard anything from the Police Chiefs.
What I did get out of the polite but clearly frustrated recruitment lady who dealt with my enquiry was that I'll get at least 4-6 weeks notice when they do eventually decide to run the next training course. The only glimmer reassurance this gives me is that I will be able to plan a few things at least for the start of this summer. Seeing a few gigs, visiting a few friends. I've got to do something to keep me going.
It's been fifteen months since I first submitted my application, this is ridiculous.
Strange isn't it, that if you wish to fight for your country you can be recruited, trained and serving abroad within six months.
Yet if you wish to protect people and property at home, you have to wait almost a year-and-a-half.
How to start a prospective trainee Police Constable off with low morale.
Rang the recruitment department this morning.
They still have no idea of a potential start date.
Recruitment hasn't heard anything from training, and training hasn't heard anything from the Police Chiefs.
What I did get out of the polite but clearly frustrated recruitment lady who dealt with my enquiry was that I'll get at least 4-6 weeks notice when they do eventually decide to run the next training course. The only glimmer reassurance this gives me is that I will be able to plan a few things at least for the start of this summer. Seeing a few gigs, visiting a few friends. I've got to do something to keep me going.
It's been fifteen months since I first submitted my application, this is ridiculous.
Strange isn't it, that if you wish to fight for your country you can be recruited, trained and serving abroad within six months.
Yet if you wish to protect people and property at home, you have to wait almost a year-and-a-half.
Monday, May 15, 2006
The un-scientific observation of parents and piranhas
Working in a retail environment (hopefully not for much longer) it's generally hard to avoid people watching and/or overhearing snippets of random conversation as you mill about the shopfloor. It can be interesting, and occasionally worrying, what people broadcast about their daily lives.
I was just thinking today, idling overhearing...
Why is it parents are such soft touches these days? So willing to spoil their kids stupid and allow children to wallow in a gluttony of choice and disposable goods?
You could argue that my un-scientific observations are skewed by the fact they're in a retail environment. However, once you notice the parent/child banter a few times, you notice it almost everywhere you go. Increasingly aggressive ankle-biters; parents so quick to wave the white flag and get them whatever they want in order to pacify them.
Have they given birth to little consumer piranhas?
It's all:
Do you want this?
Do you like that?
Are you ready to go?
Please can mummy/daddy...
etc etc...
The soft, massaging language and attention is all utterly child-focused. Children know they are the centre of attention. All of the time. And boy do they know how to milk it.
So, how are children supposed to learn the value of things? To budget? To plan? To save? Not to waste?
I'm sure I winged as a child, but I'm glad I had firm but fair parents. I used to look through toy catalogues close to Christmas and birthdays thinking up some sort of outrageous wish list, but I knew in my heart that my parents' limited means would never stretch to that. I'd get something modest in the end and was generally happy and appreciative. I'd be pining in stores, but they'd either calmly explain why I couldn't have whatever, or stand firm me until my fleeting attention-span flicked elsewhere.
But in a world where advertising is gunning for children, designed in a boardroom by the very same parents who refuse to deny their children anything, what sort of generation are we creating?
By god I like to think I'd wouldn't be such a parental pushover when I eventually come to settling down. That is of course if I ever find a lass crazy enough to volunteer to spend the rest of their life with me.
And I don't have all night to write about that.
I was just thinking today, idling overhearing...
Why is it parents are such soft touches these days? So willing to spoil their kids stupid and allow children to wallow in a gluttony of choice and disposable goods?
You could argue that my un-scientific observations are skewed by the fact they're in a retail environment. However, once you notice the parent/child banter a few times, you notice it almost everywhere you go. Increasingly aggressive ankle-biters; parents so quick to wave the white flag and get them whatever they want in order to pacify them.
Have they given birth to little consumer piranhas?
It's all:
Do you want this?
Do you like that?
Are you ready to go?
Please can mummy/daddy...
etc etc...
The soft, massaging language and attention is all utterly child-focused. Children know they are the centre of attention. All of the time. And boy do they know how to milk it.
So, how are children supposed to learn the value of things? To budget? To plan? To save? Not to waste?
I'm sure I winged as a child, but I'm glad I had firm but fair parents. I used to look through toy catalogues close to Christmas and birthdays thinking up some sort of outrageous wish list, but I knew in my heart that my parents' limited means would never stretch to that. I'd get something modest in the end and was generally happy and appreciative. I'd be pining in stores, but they'd either calmly explain why I couldn't have whatever, or stand firm me until my fleeting attention-span flicked elsewhere.
But in a world where advertising is gunning for children, designed in a boardroom by the very same parents who refuse to deny their children anything, what sort of generation are we creating?
By god I like to think I'd wouldn't be such a parental pushover when I eventually come to settling down. That is of course if I ever find a lass crazy enough to volunteer to spend the rest of their life with me.
And I don't have all night to write about that.
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