A Man’s Got to Know His Limitations….
From the time I was small, there was one cop for our wee hamlet. Which is all it needed. Nothing ever happened except speeding. No car accidents, no fires, no break-ins. He got older, as did we all. He lived around two blocks away–they lived alone, and seemed to have no friends. If you saw his cop car parked at his house, you knew the coast was clear for middle-class-punk-ass mischief.
If you remember, I alluded to our first (and for MANY years, only) convenience store, aka Mr. Food.
The owner went to the borough hall and talked to several members of council, including daddy.
It seemed that every other night around 9, the cop would come in, say hi to the owner, walk up and down aisles, pick up a snack and walk out.
The owner was like ‘wtf?’ and thought he was seeing things. Nope. The asshole was shoplifting, like he was owed it.
So finally several council members had a little chat with Mr. Cop at the borough hall. He was horrified and insulted. “You believe him over me? He doesn’t even live in the borough.” Well, yea, we do believe him, he has a video camera. (Smart guy, he knew middle class jd’s would test him.)
“If you can’t respect me, then I quit.” No, we just want you to stop stealing, we’re not firing you. This is off the record, don’t worry.
With that, he stands up, takes off his gun and badge, puts them on the table, changes his clothes, and leaves the uniform. Walks out without a word. In the years following, neighbors said he might only leave the house twice a week, if that. (sounds like my father!)
President of council calls his house to talk; who’d throw away 20+ years of service over a snack cake?
Evidently he would. The borough hired a new cop (gotta admit, this one was more on the ball). After around 5 years, cop’s house went up for sale and they vanished without a trace.