So we have a newish full time dispatcher here at WPD. To protect the innocent, I shall call her...Girlie. She is 23, and a sweetheart, but in some ways she is so very immature. I don't mean in a "let's get out the Barbies and play house" kind of way, but in the "I am still very unaffected by the world and am still learning appropriate social boundaries" kind of way. Should she ever happen upon this blog, please know the following story is told with no malice, you sweet child. First let me say, I don't know her very well, and at the time of this occurrence I really didn't know her at all. I was coming on shift to relieve her. She wasn't wearing our normal uniform polo shirt, but a zip-up sweatshirt. And now we begin:
Girlie: Hi! How was your drive? We had a pretty busy day. Do you like my new boobs? I just had them done.
Me: Hi. My drive was fine and... Say what?
Girlie: My boobs, they're new. Didn't you notice? I just got them done.
(Glancing quickly at said boob-le region)
Me: Oh wow. Yeah that's cool. Good....shape.
Girlie: I know, (closing the door to dispatch) Would you like to see them?
Me: Whoa, um I---
(Ziiiiiiiiiip. Out come the boobies)
Me: Oh my, huh. Wow. Yeah. Those are boobs.
Girlie: They still really hurt. I had to have my nipples re-placed into a better positionon. First the doctor took the nipple-----
Me: Wow! Yeah. That's amazing. They look great. Good job.
Girlie: They feel real. Would you like to feel them? You can feel them, I don't mind, it's OK.
Me: ... Um... Ok, sure. Why not...
(I poked at them experimentally with one finger.)
Me: Hey, look at that. Ok, well, you can zip up your sweatshirt now.
Girlie: You can really grab onto the whole thing if you want to.
Me: Nope. I'm good.
Girlie: (Disappointedly zipping up) Well, if you're sure.
Me: I'm sure.
If I had any hidden fears that perhaps I was a lesbian and didn't know it? ; they've been put to rest.
About Me
- Rebecca
- I am a Christian, a wife, a mother (to a two year old son I call "Little Man") and a Police Dispatcher. In that order. Currently working "Freelance" at a dream agency, I call "Wonderful PD/WPD". I am a good dispatcher, but I am an even better Cop's Wife. He get's me, I get him and we both laugh at them. I am the original 5150 Wife. Join me, gentle readers, on my journey through this crazy world.
Visitors Since July of '07
Dispatcher Farva
"Don't spit in that cop's burger"
"C" is for "Coroner's Case"
Define Irony...
Code 7
(In My Opinion)
AWARDS I HAVE WON
12 comments:
ROFLOL!!
I really don't know which of my initial 5 possible comments to share....
Now, Ron, this is a PG rated blog!
I'm just glad you weren't drinking anything - it would have come out your nose all over her ummmm sweatshirt.
ROFLOL
haha my old boss did that to me once. We had those uniform shirts that looked like button downs but really had zippers. which meant that when she was like "Wanna see my new boobs" I didnt have time to turn away. Then after she flashed them at me I froze in horror because although her boobs were only a month old her body was still 65. I am still damaged.
The "Lookie", "touch'em" "feel'em" syndrome is very common with "front-end" alignments.
LOL! That's hilarious!
Man, I really need to hang out in disptach more.
P.S. Photos often help make the point when blogging!
Just saying!
LOL
I'm perfectly fine with no photos - your description was picture enough for me. :-)
K-
Oh man! Why doesn't that happen at my department??????
Great story.
Now see there's the difference between men and women. A guy would never dream of asking another guy to uh....you know....grab trout....albeit a surgically enhanced, new and improved "trout". If he did he'd have to have more corrective surgery. "Wanna see my new wax-job?"....nope, not happening in the mens room.
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