The Establishment at Work

ON MY LAST geographical cure, I wound up in a small Texas town where, among other jobs, I worked briefly as a radio dispatcher for the local police department. After about three months of training, I was still having a lot of trouble remembering street names and locations, as well as upsetting the FCC with my rather colorful language on the air. When enough became too much, the captain was quite gallant and did not even mention my breath or bleary eyes when he let me go. I, of course, considered him a chauvinist pig and blamed my failure on everything but booze.