“Detective” Taylor is a Crisis Response Team investigator, and while I was at OfficeMax, I assume that since this is a small town and that word travels very fast, that he decided that this was a great opportunity for him to call without me recording him. Upon speaking with him, he admits that he has no idea why I was forwarded to him, but then reveals that he is a Crisis Response Team investigator and not an actual detective like I was promised. He makes plenty of suggestions to go see a doctor, pries for information about which doctor’s offices I have been to, and keeps suggesting to see a Family Doctor/Primary Care Physician and carries on to say that they are all “mandated reporters” and that I should seek help.
He then continues to insult my intelligence by asking me how do I know that my blood is being stolen, to which I explain to him that I woke up to blood everywhere and that there are needle holes left on different spots of my body upon several different occasions. What does he do after that? He insults my intelligence yet again by saying, “Have you been to a doctor that has said that these are needle holes?” I’m deathly afraid of needles, I hate them with every fiber of my being, I know exactly what a needle hole in skin looks like. I know what both real and fake–blood looks like.
I ran for Sheriff of Clark County and technically won, and this cop with “Crisis Response Team and Mental Health” training dares to insult a man of this caliber’s intelligence? This begs the question of, “Are YOU insane?” And the answer is yes, and here’s why. He tried over and over again to get the same thing from me the same way without differing whatsoever, and the definition of insane is to do exactly that. So, do tell me again how you were given the authority to try to rule someone mentally unhealthy when you’re clearly a psycho and your own mental–health’s instability is obviously bleeding the edge.
When I basically had to force him to face the music, I casually mentioned the original reason of me calling…. the blood thievery that I was told by the Sarge that he would be investigating (which was a bold–faced lie, and he knew it). I asked, “What about the blood, are you going to be investigating that?” Mr Taylor replied that, no, he wouldn’t. That he doesn’t handle these types of cases, to which I thanked him for his time (even though he just wasted mine while I was busy getting a resume printed) and politely hung up with him. I felt violated to the utmost extent and suddenly understood what locals in this town meant when they all repeatedly told me that, “The cops around here don’t do s*** about nothing.”
