dadaLab
Who Decides Where Cops Are Assigned?
RECEIVED Mon., June 2, 2008
Dear Editor,
I've meant to say something in regards to the forthcoming content for years but somehow thought it would go away. I've lived in Austin for 15 years, working Downtown as a bartender and as a musician in a band. You can find five or six bicycle cops huddled around a group of giggly sorority girls on Sixth Street, but on Red River, a stone's throw from police headquarters, you'd be more likely to find a four-leaf clover. I have two brothers. In the last two months, both of their cars, parked in legal, metered parking spots (!), have had windows broken out and, as you may infer, items stolen. What the eff?! Who decides where our tax dollars are spent? Four-year-old children know that Red River is crack-central. Do we have to wait for a celebrity or a politician to get effed before the city pays attention to an area they can see from the window while they are making copies? Respectfully, the man who just dealt with the straw that broke my back. All I can say is, "Un-fucking-believable."
I've meant to say something in regards to the forthcoming content for years but somehow thought it would go away. I've lived in Austin for 15 years, working Downtown as a bartender and as a musician in a band. You can find five or six bicycle cops huddled around a group of giggly sorority girls on Sixth Street, but on Red River, a stone's throw from police headquarters, you'd be more likely to find a four-leaf clover. I have two brothers. In the last two months, both of their cars, parked in legal, metered parking spots (!), have had windows broken out and, as you may infer, items stolen. What the eff?! Who decides where our tax dollars are spent? Four-year-old children know that Red River is crack-central. Do we have to wait for a celebrity or a politician to get effed before the city pays attention to an area they can see from the window while they are making copies? Respectfully, the man who just dealt with the straw that broke my back. All I can say is, "Un-fucking-believable."
Kevin Mason
