Life as a Crime Scene Technician

One of my daughter (A's) many brief jobs was as a Crime Scene Tech (CST). She thought it was so cool -- at first -- before the 1st dead body -- and being woken up at 3am and having to go to a crime scene. It wasn't long before the car, the uniform, the crime processing kit and that special comradery lost its luster.

One of her many duties was to go to the jail on Mondays and finger print and take mug shots of the non-law abiding citizens who had been arrested over the weekend. It was amazing how many of the guys asked her out. (I wonder if they really thought they had a chance? I mean, come on now, a jump suite is not that becoming. ....and handcuffs and ankle chains don't help either.)

But....the following might explain a lot: While processing them, she had to ask for pertinent info such as name, age, address, etc. Here's how one exchange went.

'A' asks: "Name."

'Offender' answers: "John Jones"

'A' asks: "Jr.? Sr.?"

'Offender' answers: "No, ma'am. I dropped out of school in 8th grade."