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Between then and now, various members of the RCMP have withheld information of public interest, helped send a citizen to Syria to be tortured, intimidated journalists, had sex with teenage prostitutes, sexually assaulted female prisoners, killed people with Tazers, and totally mishandled the force’s pension fund. Most recently, they commissioned a report on Vancouver’s Insite, thus wandering from the field of law enforcement to that of health care, right in the closing days of an election campaign. Nice one, lads.
I’ve never had it that bad at the hands of a cop. Close, though. Once, in Quebec, where the provincial police are like fascists, a friend and I were driven out to the middle of nowhere and made to walk back to Ontario. It was intense, what with all the bloody cow pelvises in the fields we cut across. You can’t hitchhike across an irrigation ditch, either.
In Squamish, my biggest beef with the cops is wrapped up in similar beefs with ICBC. I could make all kinds of arguments against school zone speed limits, but I won’t. What I will argue against is the lie that it’s all about safety. Recently, I got my third or fourth school zone speeding ticket. It was about two in the afternoon, so I must have been totally drunk and high, right?
“You’re pupils are dilated,” this guy kept saying. “What do you think a roadside test would show?”
Probably just that you’re an idiot. Of course, it wouldn’t do to say that, not now that I’m over 15. So I flipped down my visor, looked at my eyes, looked at his, and saw that our pupils shared the same dimensions.
“Well, I don’t know what’s causing it, but they’re huge.”
That ticket means I’ll lose something like nine points, all of which can be bought back from ICBC before my birthday. If it were really about safety, wouldn’t you just pull my recidivist ass off the road for good? Of course not, because then I’d have no incentive to pay my so-called dues. I’m not saying I don’t deserve the fines; I’m just saying you insult my intelligence by pretending it’s about anything other than money.
Whatever. I can deal with that. The drunk and high thing, though, and this guy’s mindless insistence that my pupils were huge, still pisses me off. I called the detachment to file a complaint, but the officer in charge hasn’t called back. This after covering the recent commemoration for the late Corporal Wael Audi, during which all members were exceedingly nice and available.