@ ADULTING 101
Karen’s Guide to Calling the Cops
Point three: Am I at fault?
Confession: I call the cops. A lot. And I’m a middle-aged woman of European descent.
But what I have never done, and never will, is call the police emergency line because I need a private armed enforcer to protect me from being annoyed.
Here’s my guide for fellow Karens and Karls who are contemplating dialing 911.*
RULE ONE: Assume someone will die. Mostly, nobody gets shot when you call the cops. But occasionally, they do. If ever I’m tempted to reach for a phone, I first ask myself: Is this phone call worth getting somebody killed? Is there any alternative to ringing up the gendarmerie? If there’s an alternative, then hard pass on calling.
RULE TWO: Back away from the phone. If I can de-escalate a bad situation by walking away, I will always walk away. There is no ego here. There’s only common sense. I don’t need to win a public fight with a stranger. I always assume hostile strangers are angry, unstable, and armed. If I can safely leave a hostile situation, buh-bye.
RULE THREE: Am I at fault? If a stranger calls me out on my inadvertent bad manners, rule breaking, bad driving, or annoying mannerisms, I try to pull a Fred Rogers and just go along with it, exactly as I would if someone pointed out that my zipper was undone. While my pride might be injured, what need have I to debate a stranger? Especially when, from their perspective, I’m so much in the wrong that they had to mention it aloud. The best responses to being called out are: “You might have a good point” or “Thanks for letting me know” or “You may be right. I’ll try to keep that in mind.” That’s the script for neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but choosing instead to be an adult. Adults don’t get into fistfights over shopping carts or parking spaces.
RULE FOUR: Is this small enough for me to handle on my own? Most problems with strangers can be ignored. They go away on their own.
Other small problems can sometimes be handled by way of adult conversation with the problem maker. No need to call in the armed troops.
One summer, we had a rash of petty robberies and vandalism in our neighborhood. Then I came across a non-resident kid (yes, I knew all the kids in our neighborhood) loitering around a clump of tall hedges. I could have called the cops.
Instead, I waved over another neighbor and together the two of us had a word with the kid. I was careful to stay out of his space, be friendly, and stay non-accusatory. “I’m so sorry to even be here, but let me tell you about a problem in our neighborhood. We’ve just reported a bunch of thefts here. I’m sure you’re not a thief, but you are a stranger. I need to let you know the police are looking for a thief, and I wouldn’t want you to be questioned.” He was hostile and defensive, naturally, but we stayed calm and friendly. Eventually, one of the neighboring teenagers wandered over, and when the kid saw his peer approaching, he ran off. Never saw him again.
I’m not the neighborhood cop. I would never confront (or even notice) someone who’s just passing through. But loitering around hedges never bodes well, and I’d rather solve that small problem on my own than get the police involved.
Same thing with other run-of-the-mill neighborhood problems. If a neighbor had a barking dog, or an overgrown lawn, or inadvertently left a garage door open after dark, my first impulse is to ignore it and mind my own business; my second impulse is to knock on a door and offer apologies and assistance. Calling the cops is at the very bottom of a list of solutions to neighborhood problems.
RULE FIVE: Get out. I was once caught in a stampede, where twenty-one people died, and I will never stop feeling pangs of guilt about having been one of the humans whose very presence contributed to those people’s deaths. No, I didn’t actually step on anybody, and yes, in the center of the crush, I very nearly was another victim. But hindsight tells me that that many bodies in that small a space was a disaster waiting to happen. And because I’m not stupid, I still get anxious about being in crowds. If there’s a hint of danger, rioting, looting, violence, fire, explosion, gunfire, or mob behavior, I’m gone. I will never again be part of the problem.
RULE SIX: Assume there’s a camera. If I actually need to speak to a manager, or a cop, I’m certainly not going to do it in a public place. My life goal is to never appear on the Internet in a compromising situation. Assuming the problem is not endangering anyone’s life, and truly needs to be addressed, I might wait until the following day and make a calm phone call to a person in authority to report a serious problem. I’m not going to make a scene in a public place over nonsense.
RULE SEVEN: De-escalate, but persist if necessary. I once shared office space with an odd woman who repeatedly stole from me, hid the objects she stole, and even boasted to other office mates that she had done so.
The first time, I let it go. It was a meaningless object inexpensively replaced. But when the thefts continued, I simply tracked down the stolen items and put them back in their place.
Then she began hiding stolen objects in her own locked office. Calmly and quietly, and without an audience, I asked her to return the items. She reacted badly and locked herSELF in her office.
I spoke with our mutual landlord, who told me he was powerless without a police report. So, reluctantly, I informed my office mate that if she continued, I’d have to get the police involved. Bizarrely, she reacted by screaming “Go ahead! You can’t stop me.” I just shrugged and walked away. Still, didn’t call 911. Instead, I drove to the local police precinct, had a calm conversation with an officer, and asked that if he happened to be in the neighborhood, perhaps he could stop by and have a chat with her. No hysterics, no drama. A day later, he did so, recovered the stolen items, and gave me a police report. I forwarded the report to our landlord, and the landlord terminated her lease.
Right usually overrules might, but sometimes it takes time.
RULE EIGHT: Is this really an emergency?
If nobody’s life is at risk, it’s not an emergency. I called the cops on myself when my car stalled out in the HOV lane of Interstate 5 in downtown Seattle. That’s an emergency.
I also called the cops when an angry driver — who I must have offended — began pursuing me, tailgating, swerving around me, honking, and flipping me the bird. After a couple of miles of him in hot pursuit, yeah I called 911. I’m not Sandra Bullock. I can’t drive skillfully enough to evade a determined attacker. When I made it obvious I was describing his car to the 911 operator, he sped away. Whew. I told the operator he was gone and asked her to call off the cops.
And I’ve called the police at least three or four times — maybe more — to report drunk and dangerous drivers. I won’t have anyone else’s death on my conscious.
And I’ve called the police when there’s been an abandoned vehicle in front of my house for two or three days. (Apparently, our former neighborhood in suburban Seattle was a favorite dumping ground for stolen vehicles. Weird, right?)
But no way did I consider calling the cops when I saw a group of teenagers running out of Safeway with stolen cases of beer. That’s Safeway’s problem, not Karen’s.
If I were in the bank and I saw a sketchy character in a ski mask, I might catch the eye of the security guard and nod in the guy’s direction, but this Karen is gonna quickly walk out of the bank alive and live to tell the tale.
If I saw someone barbequing in the park, selling lemonade on the street corner, eating lunch in public, or walking through a neighborhood where they don’t reside? That’s none of Karen’s business. Karen doesn’t notice other people just living their lives.
And if I were in Central Park breaking leash laws, and some bird watcher called me out? Shame on me. I’d apologize, leash my frickin’ dog, and be on my way.
Because that’s what grown-up, well mannered Karens do.
Well mannered. Politely apologetic. Mature. Friendly. Respectful. And leaving the police alone to do their actual jobs.
Karen? Karl? Will you join me?
* * *
*911 is the US version of the UK’s 999; here in mainland Europe, it’s 112.
More from this writer
Sometimes it’s hard to hold on to your privacy and still be nice. The Beauty of the Four-Sentence Cover Story takes care of it.
Marriage isn’t a zero-sum game. Here’s help in letting everyone be right: Read You’re Not Wrong — And Neither is Your Partner.
More tips on holding onto boundaries while being a nice person. Read Just Say Yes. To Everything. Even Your Kids.
The Relationship Institute uses a martial-arts metaphor to coach relationship, communication, and life skills. Visit our digital library, schedule training events, and sign up for our newsletter to receive free therapeutic advice for improving your relationships.
LauraMaery Gold, LMFT, is a licensed marriage and family therapist working with couples and parents. She is also executive director of The Relationship Institute and the author of oh-so-very-many books on family concerns. She lives with her husband in a 400-year-old castle just outside of Paris.
