“Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not by the powers they’re graced with“.
Being a 911 dispatcher has always been “the job that got away”, for me. I always wanted to do it, but never ̶f̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ made time because life got in the way & I became a paralegal, even though my passion are languages. Not any trouble making up my mind, right? Well, the 911 jobs are hard to get here; I like the law, but didn’t want to practice it; and I don’t know enough languages to make a living full-time (I only know 3).
I just came back from taking the “Police Communications” (read: 911 dispatcher) test. HOLY SHIT. The thing is the SAT on steroids. At one point I was, simultaneously, filling a call-detail log of replayed real 911 calls, while answering questions on a multiple-choice answer book, while monitoring a giant screen w/an interactive map where four pretend patrol cars were “assigned” to me, to whom I had to dispatch calls depending on 4 escalating priorities. THREE HOURS OF THIS.
I stopped by a store on my way home, got a ton of chocolates, put ’em in a gift bag w/a thank-you card, & stopped by my local PD station. I left the bag at the front desk (not staffed, but ya can *summon* someone), rang the bell & ran out. I still can’t believe the test (I don’t really think I’ll pass it but I won’t kill the hope ’til I get the news). If “the real thing” is even a tenth of what we had to do today, I’m telling you, that job is no joke! The next time I call to report something & I start to lose patience because “that bitch” doesn’t let me finish my sentences, I’ll have a reason to keep my composure & shut up.