Picture this: it’s a Saturday night and you and your buddy leave a party and walk over to 7-Eleven. The reason you are walking is because everyone at the party is too drunk to drive.
While purchasing a water bottle and some light snacks, you notice a University of Mary Washington police officer aimlessly wandering the store.
Now it’s raining and your friend is wearing flip-flops; she suggests getting a safe ride back to campus from the officer. It’s a little less than a mile, but in these conditions, a ride would be helpful.
She asks, “Officer, do you think that it is possible for you to give us a ride back to campus? We have our school IDs.”
Shooting us a glare, he asks you if you have been drinking.
You are a bit taken back and do not see the relevance. Both 21, it’s seems that your request for assistance has turned into an interrogation.
The officer gets on his phone, “We have a 922.” What is a 922? He informs you of the option of calling an escort service; he is not allowed to provide you with assistance.
Flustered and confused in the pouring rain, you tell him you will walk home.
It’s 2 a.m. With a heavy sigh, you both begin walking back.
Now you’re pissed.
As two out-of-state, full-time students of the university, you both wonder what your mothers would think about a school police officer allowing you to walk back from the 7-Eleven on Layfatte street at 2 a.m.?
At $25,000 a year, I don’t think she would see what the issue is with transporting two students back less than a mile.
We all know that Fredericksburg is not the safest place in the middle of the night. Some people are uncomfortable leaving the library at night due to past incidents.
With so many measures taken to provide safety to students, is it not the responsibility of every police employee to protect and serve?
It is ironic to think that those who are employed for this purpose chose to leave us high and not so dry on a Saturday night.
Aidan McCurdy is a junior.