When Mike posted about William Michael Olson, the drunken, hot dog stealing prosecutor, flashing his MasterCard and telling the cop who nabbed him that he really didn’t want to mess with him, I had to laugh.  When Ken ran with it, I had to laugh again.  Ken was once one of “them”, young buck filled with the pride of federal power, but clear-sighted enough to know that flashing the shiny thing to the wrong guy could be a problem.

And the problem crops up because it is a problem.  Not that young AUSAs or ADAs regularly get drunk and steal hot dogs.  But that they get into the ordinary sorts of tiffs that the rest of us get into, but have an ace in the hole.  Whether it’s the store clerk who treats you poorly or the pretend traffic cop who is going to tell you where to go, the urge is there to pull out that ace.  After all, you’re one of them.  Better still, you’re a more important one of them than they are, than they realize when they see some young pup in blue jeans looking like you’re average skel.  Not you.  You are a prosecutor.

Sorry to chuckle, but this is one of the schadenfreude things where both criminal defense lawyers and former prosecutors of all sizes have some fun.

Newsflash:  You aren’t a cop.  You aren’t one of them.  They don’t even like you, and take some pleasure in giving you smart-aleck, arrogant little pissant a darn good spanking.  Truth be told, they think you’re naive, obstructionist little dolts.  No, they don’t use the word dolt (ever), but I try to phrase things more kindly here than they do in the precinct.

At the very best, young prosecutors are the conduit through which their important work gets done.  Like little resisters, needing a serious jolt of high tension to push important stuff through your tiny lawyer brain that will never quite grasp how the real world works.  Consider the 18 year detective being lectured by the 18 month prosecutor on why his bust was bad and the evidence sucks.  Oh yes, the detective is so very impressed with your knowledge and experience.  He can’t wait to hear more from you, because you are just so very brilliant.  Or perhaps ram his club down your smarmy throat.  One or the other.

But there you are, shield in your pocket together with the unused condom from freshman year of high school, just begging to be shown.  Can you resist the urge?  Must you resist the urge?  It’s so hard to do when that symbol of power is right there, ready to be flashed and put you a step above mere mortals.  No one can do you harm when you have the shield in your pocket.

Popehat Ken asks a silly question:

Being a government lawyer definitely poses a risk of getting an entitlement complex. But where do people get the sense that it’s a good idea to waive government credentials around to get out of trouble?

Could it possibly come from the hundreds thousands of incidents each year where cops flash their shield to their brethren with the understanding that waving their “government credentials” is more than adequate to get them out of trouble, and indeed does quite well almost every time?

Except that’s about cops.   And they’ve been waiting for the opportunity to give you a little spanking.  You, young prosecutor, are no cop.  Smack.