Do you want to hear another story about Peter, the dedicated police employee who thinks differently? 

This takes place after a long day working as a courier. Peter walks into the office as usual to read his emails. Remember, to get through to Peter, you really need to speak English. He will reply in English, anyway.

Peter: “Today I take hitchhiker.”

This is strictly forbidden, for all sorts of reasons — not least, security.

Me: “Peter! What, why?”

Peter: “Lost. Needed help.”

Me: “You know you are not allowed to do this!”

Peter: “Exceptions. Name Bob.”

I’m panicking. What if the public finds that we dropped off a confused hitchhiker, and they got hurt?

Me: “I don’t care what his name… Where? “

Peter: “[Tiny Village].”

Me: “Where did you leave them?”

Peter: “Wait. I get Bob.”

What?!

He leaves, grabbing the keys to the van, for some reason. I pick up the phone to report this to senior management. Peter comes back carrying in his arms… a BORDER COLLIE.

Peter: *With a poker face* “Call [Officer who speaks sign language].”

Me: “Peter, is this the hitchhiker?”

Peter: “Call. Now.”

I get the police officer on video chat. She has been known to interpret for Peter if it is complicated. Meanwhile, this happy pooch just loves all the attention.

Officer: “Hi. How can I help?”

Me: “Please find out why he has brought a dog into this police station.”

They begin signing.

Officer: “He saw the dog running along [Remote Road closed in winter]. As you can see, the dog is very well-groomed, so he obviously isn’t a stray. Peter thinks somebody is missing a member of their family. He couldn’t leave the dog with a vet because he can’t explain it in German, so he brought the dog back here.”

A senior police officer walks in.

Senior Officer: *Ignoring the dog* “Peter, are you allowed to pick up hitchhikers?”

Me: “It… it isn’t what it seems. I’ll explain later.”

The senior officer leaves.

Me: “So, lost dog. Has he had any water?”

Officer: “No, he didn’t give him any water.”

Me: “He needs to drink. You drove 250 km without—”

Officer: “Wait… He had a Coke Zero and a burger of some sort… A Big Mac. With bacon.”

Me: “I… Right. Border collie, fast food, and fizzy drink. He said the, err, ‘hitchhiker’ was called Bob?”

Officer: “Yes, that’s right.”

Peter, now giving the dog belly rubs, points to the collar.

Peter: “Look, Bob.”

Officer: “Peter says his cousin, last name Bahn, has a dog called Otto. Wait, why would you call a dog Otto? Oh… Autobahn. Very good.”

Me: “…Thank you for rescuing the dog. I will call a vet to scan the microchip.”

Officer: “The K9 unit might be interested.”

Me: “We can’t take somebody’s family pet as a sniffer dog!”

Officer: “No… they could also scan the microchip quicker than a vet. Take some pictures for our social media, too.”

Me: “You’re an adventure, Peter.”

K9 came in ten minutes, checked the microchip, and identified his owner. It turned out that Bob was a sheepdog. His owner, very relieved, was unavailable that night, so Bob had a leftover steak dinner from the canteen and spent the night in Peter’s apartment. He was collected the next day. Bob is now on Peter’s phone background.

Related:
No Lapses In Security On His Watch!
No Neglected Post On His Watch!
No Accident K’Boom Explode On His Watch!

As someone who works for the government, I hate the kind of runaround a lot of places give to people. If I don’t know the answer, I at least try to find someone who will.

My partner moved to Switzerland. To get approved to live here for longer than three months, you need to find employment or prove you have income that allows you to finance your life, so you’re not a drain on public funds. The way the law is written simply states that you must have an indefinite employment contract. It doesn’t mandate a specific salary, minimum hours, or a percentage, which is calculated based on a work week; if your full work week is forty hours and your contract is for 50%, you work twenty hours per week.

My partner applied for a job on an hourly basis. After she signed the contract, she applied for her permit to live here. They denied it, citing that the permit required at least 80% employment. When I asked them why, I got the typical runaround from local, to state, to federal government; everybody said that there were rules from some other jurisdiction, though this is typically a state issue. But nobody could confirm to me this ominous rule of 80% employment, because no laws or regulatory statutes mentioned it anywhere.

Once I got angry enough with these guys, one of them finally relented and told me they have this internal guideline that states this 80% employment rule, which they never communicate publicly, for some reason. Once I knew that, I threatened to ask their department lead, which is always an elected politician — remember, government agency — if they wanted to get reelected again based on what arbitrary criteria their department tried to enforce here without any legal backing.

They finally relented and issued the permit, but by that time, my partner had already switched jobs and found one with 100% employment.

Sometimes I love and hate working for the government. I like the general work I do, but I also see a lot of redundancy and laziness here.

This is another story about my colleague Peter, the staff member with learning differences. 

Senior management asked for a volunteer to work as a courier for a few months. The job was easy; the driver had to collect, deliver, and sort internal mail to several police stations. It is also boring and unpopular. The only person to volunteer was Peter.

We were a little concerned. We didn’t even think he could drive. Well, Peter took a police officer on a test run and drove like an angel. He drove to each station and produced his police ID to get entry. When somebody asked him something, he pulled out his phone, called his boss, and had them deal with it.  

We gave Peter the job. As we expected, Peter was very happy and motivated, but we expected to get a complaint at some point. Three weeks later, we did — from a contracted security officer. Remember, Peter understands everything, but he strongly prefers sign language, or as a last resort, simple English.

Security Officer: “I found your new letter carrier climbing a fence into my station. He didn’t say very much; he just took the post and drove off.”

Me: “Do you know why he climbed the fence? Am I missing any information here?”

Security Officer: “Not that I know of.”

I didn’t believe that complaint. Peter is unusual, but he understands not to breach the security of a police station. No sign language interpreter was available, so I spoke to him in English. As he gets upset in these situations, I asked him to come to coffee in the canteen.

Me: “Hey, Peter. The security man at [Town] said you climbed over the fence. Is that true?”

Peter: “Yes.”

Me: “Why did you climb the fence?”

Peter: “No answer.”

Me: “From the security man? What do you mean?”

Peter: “I wait. Four minutes. No answer.”

Me: “You waited at the gate? In your car?”

Peter: “Not four minutes. Four minutes twelve seconds. Yes, at gate in car.”

Me: “Did you have ID?”

Peter: “Police ID. Point to security man. He is gone.”

Me: “Was he at the toilet?”

Peter: “Probably beerhall in Munich, ladyfriend.”

Me: *Laughing* “Okay, we don’t know where he was. Then what did you do?”

Peter: “Engine off, slam door loud. I press call button, DING DING.”

Me: “And?”

Peter: “Already said, went to Munich. No answer.”

Me: “When did you jump the fence?”

Peter: “DING DING, two minutes. No heard door car slam. Climb fence.”

Me: “Why did you climb the fence?”

Peter: “Security gone, public want service. Get help inside.”

Me: “You needed to speak to a police officer inside? Why?”

Peter: “Letters, no security. Security, bigger problem. Help.”

Me: “Okay, so there didn’t seem to be any security, and that was a priority. Then what happened?”

Peter: “Priority. Climb fence. Security man see me. Why climb fence? B*****d.”

This was the first time I ever heard Peter swear.

Me: “Don’t swear; say [Security Man]. Did he say why he didn’t see you or open the barrier?”

Peter: “He profanity security man. Said phone call. Window was open. I hear no phone.”

Me: “All right… So, when you didn’t get a response, you climbed the fence to investigate. That’s when the security man confronted you. What would you have done if there was no security man?”

Peter: “No security, big problem. Find policeman. Get help. Tell, no security man. Drunk in Munich, probably.”

Me: *Laughing* “Thanks for your help, Peter. I enjoyed our coffee.”

Peter: “No security next time, same?”

Me: “…yes. Go and get help. Next time, go into the station and tell someone why you climbed the fence.”

I replied to the security officer’s manager. I said that Peter had waited for five minutes at the gate, doing everything he could to get the security man’s attention. I advised him to check the CCTV inside and outside and asked whether this was acceptable. I received no more complaints from that location. The security man was moved to another office.  

Peter is still doing courier work. We still get some reports of odd behaviour. On investigation, we always find that it is something he has not been trained or prepared for. He always deals with it in a professional way.

Related:
No Neglected Post On His Watch!
No Accident K’Boom Explode On His Watch!

August 1st is Switzerland’s national holiday. This year, it’s my turn to work the night shift at our police dispatch department. As is typical for many countries, setting off fireworks is also customary here, which is usually prohibited, along with any other noise between 11:00 pm and 7:00 am. Most people wait until the evening of August 1st to set off fireworks, but according to the law, you’re allowed to set them off at any point during the national holiday, which means people have started doing so at midnight when the date changes from July 31st to August 1st.

Some people can’t quite restrain themselves to wait until it’s exactly midnight, so I’ve heard a few loud bangs at 11:55 pm. As you might be able to guess, this doesn’t sit right with some people, which is why I pretty much immediately get a call from a resident complaining about the noise.

Caller: “Some people in my neighborhood are setting off fireworks.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I’ve heard them, too. They’re setting off fireworks all over the city.”

Caller: “It’s not midnight yet, so it’s a disturbance of the peace.”

Me: “While that’s true, there’s not a lot we can do about that right now. If I dispatch a squad to your neighborhood, it’ll take more than five minutes for them to arrive, and by then, it’s perfectly legal to set off fireworks. Not to mention that figuring out who set them off early is nearly impossible.”

Caller: “Well, that’s what you always say when I’ve called you about an issue. You’re never able to do anything about it.”

Me: “Sir, I don’t know what other issues you’ve had where we couldn’t be of assistance, but the fact of the matter is that I’m not going to be sending around squads all across the city to curb some fireworks that have been set off five minutes too early.”

Caller: “Is this how my tax money gets spent? On a police force that isn’t interested in maintaining law and order?”

Me: “Listen, is this really that much of an issue for you right now? So what if they set off the fireworks a couple of minutes too early? It’s perfectly fine in five minutes, so what does it matter to you? It’s not like the fireworks are going to be any less of a disturbance after midnight for you. Now, unless you have an actual emergency, I will terminate this call.”

Was he correct that it’s not 100% legal to set off fireworks at 11:55 pm on July 31st? Absolutely. But it’s still peak nitpicking over a non-issue, and coupled with his cantankerous attitude, I elected to ignore his complaints. It feels good to be able to honestly tell these people that their issues are overblown.

I start a new relationship and almost immediately start coming down with urinary tract infections (UTIs). For those of you unaware, these can be incredibly painful and often make you feel like you can’t get off the loo, so you want them treated quickly and avoid them as much as possible.

It becomes apparent over the next few months that this is not a one-off. It’s a long-distance relationship, and my partner and I work out that if we are apart for more than a month, as soon as we have sex, I get a UTI. We improve our hygiene and do what we can, but they keep occurring at a faster rate and getting more serious.

I go to my general practitioner every time, but as I get an infection every few months, to them it doesn’t look like a problem. (“Recurring” is classed at roughly more than three in six months, but as my partner and I normally meet up every three to six months, I only get one or two in that timeframe.) I keep trying to explain the link between my long-distance relationship, my boyfriend arriving, and getting infections. They give me a half-hearted response and send me on my way. This cycle repeats for four years.

When I start peeing blood, I’ve had enough. This time when I go for the antibiotics (in quite bad pain), I sit there with a chart explaining the flights and the infections. I talk through everything we’ve been doing to avoid UTIs.

Doctor: “Some women are just prone to UTIs, unfortunately.”

Me: “In the three serious relationships I’ve had, this is the only one where this problem has occurred; I have never needed treatment for a UTI before this. There is something about my boyfriend I don’t seem to get immunity from, or if I do, I quickly lose it.” *Starting to cry* “Please. I am begging you for anything you can do. I can’t go through this for the rest of my life, risking a kidney infection each time this happens. The problem is only likely to get worse when we finally get together full-time; I might be able to keep any immunity gained, but it’s not a given it will happen.”

The doctor finally put two and two together with the colour-coded chart my partner and I had made, and luckily, we’d been able to spend more time together, so the last three infections made this a recurring problem.

The doctor put me on an E. coli vaccine, which takes around nine months to complete. I’m only on month three, but since my boyfriend and I have moved in together (and this is after a gap, so we would expect an infection to occur) there have been no new infections.

Thank God a doctor finally listened to me and, while I may have bullied her into accepting that there was a problem, she finally accepted that there was one.