I imagine being a police officer is like working the phones--you deal with a lot of people all the time, and the cool, nice people get extra-special treatment, and the ********* get the other end of the mash paddle.
Why can't more people realize this?
It doesn't always work like that.
I do, however, have one of those stories, from the times when you could still find cool people in South Florida.
One day, after a couple of months unemployed (and getting to a point where money was getting way too tight), I got a job at a DirecTV contractor, as a technician. After they did all the paperwork, and made me watch the most boring 2 hours of video in my whole life, the boss comes up with the news that, to be hired, I needed to own a van, a 6ft ladder, and a 14ft ladder, both fiberglass. So I talked to my soon to be supervisor (by far, the coolest guy I have ever met since I got to the US), and explained that I only had a Mazda Protege, and a 6ft wooden ladder. After chatting for a few minutes, he agreed to let me work anyway, under the promise that I'd never reschedule a job because of the lack of a ladder.
A couple of days later, driving my car with only the driver's seat, and full to the brim of tools and materials (and with no insurance, and the tag expired), I got pulled over. When the cop asked me for my license, registration and insurance, I gave him the license, and told him the truth about the rest. He went to his car, checked my license, came back, looked into my car, and said "I guess you gotta do what you gotta do. Make sure you solve this problem ASAP. Drive carefully." And he let me go.
About 2 weeks later, exactly 2 days before I got my first check, I got pulled over again, in the same corner. When the cop came up to me, and I started telling him my story, I realized
it was the same cop! So I told him, and he remembered me. I told him I was waiting to get my first paycheck that Friday, and "that was the reason I had doctored my tag, to avoid getting pulled over until I could take care of it". Of course, when I saw his face, I realized that was probably the dumbest thing to say in a situation like that.
So he said: "you doctored your tag? Where?"
We went to the back of he car, and I showed him: "here, you see? I was born in March, so I changed the "3" into an "8" in the sticker".
So he went: "You did that? How?'
And I answered: "with a sharpie".
Then he gave me my license back, and said: "Good job! This is the last time I let you go. Please take care of that problem. Drive carefully". And he let me go again.
Without a doubt, the coolest cop ever.