Oh the thrill.
The sound of the loud engine rumbling out in the street. The anticipation as you hear the footsteps approaching your front door. Pause. And there it is. The doorbell rings. You race to the door, but sometimes your too late. You catch only but a glimpse of the brown suit as they make their way back into the big truck, so fast, so swift, like Santa. Or other times the friendly face offers up a fun little electronic device for you to sign with. The signature only somewhat resembles what you tried to make it do, but they always reassure you that you did well. And there on your stoop is a lovely brown box. Wrapped securely with gobs of clear packaging tape that even Macgyver couldn't bust through. Waiting to be scooped up and lovingly taken inside its new home.
Seriously, how fun is it to get a package? Or, I should correct myself, how fun did it used to be? The mystery of who it could be from or better yet who it might be for? Me? Him? Kids? Or is it the long awaited online shopping order that has reached its final destination after weeks of tracking. Will it fit? Is it the right product? Was it the bargain it promised to be?
With the new police officer living at our address the event "Arrival of a Package" seems to have lost its thrill... for some of us. As I'm sure our neighbors can attest there seems to be a permanent UPS truck that has taken up residency in the middle of our street and right in front of our home. And there is an unceasing stream of small, medium, and large brown boxes that flow from said truck to our front porch. The doorbell rings. Footsteps no longer race to the door to see what the brown suit has brought this time, unless of course CA Cop is home on a day off. In that case, the pitter patter is present and hasty.
Gear. Boxes of it. Truck loads of it. Entire jet planes of it. Oh my. Could a man possibly need another bag? I swear his bag collection far exceeds my purse collection. There are duty bags, patrol bags, evidence bags, range bags, ammo bags, bags that hang in your car, bags that hang in your locker, bags that carry your lunch, bags that do flips and somersaults and catch bad guys for you! And we recently discovered that 511 tactical will often throw in a free item or two with your order so heck, lets order and see what we get free!
The boxes are rapidly opened. The products thoroughly examined over and over. Tests are performed.
If the perfection test did not meet standards back they go. The little brown boxes. Soldiers lined up waiting for their next orders. The handcuffs were wrong. The gloves were too thick. The jacket is not thick enough. And we continue each day in this manner.
So my friends, enlighten me on the world of everything that is "gear". Is this rookie action at its best? We will soon accumulate all the necessities that "so and so" has? Or should I invite the UPS man to join the family since he sees us more than his own children?
My own joy of seeing the brown box on my doorstep is forever tainted by gear, but watching CA Cop look like a 4 year old on Christmas each day when he spies them is irreplaceable.