Hats. I hate the damned things (at least our 8-point "taxi driver" hats). I'm the only guy in the history of my department to be suspended for not wearing my hat
. It happened in 1982, back when our chief was an old school, ex-Marine officer. Hard core spit & polish.
Shortly thereafter, we went on a call in which boyfriend decided to slice & dice girlfriend with a butcher knife. We arrived in the middle of his 44th cut (amazingly, she survived), and the place looked like a scene out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Blood everywhere, and we're slipping and sliding in it trying to get this guy in cuffs.
We're covered in blood, trying to get him out to a cruiser with him fighting every inch of the way, and girlfriend's kin shows up. All 10 of 'em. A real three-ring nightmare circus.
Now, while all this is going on, said chief drives up on scene. Ya think he'd jump out & give us a hand? Nope. Maybe say something like "good job, guys"? Nope again. What he said was "Where's your &#%$ hats? You're all on report!"
Now before I joined the PD, I spent some years as a back country ranger at Grand Canyon NP. We wore those WWI Smokey the Bear campaign hats. They make great kites
. Mine happened to blow off while I was riding mounted patrol on the park's greenest horse. It landed right on his face. I landed right on the ground.
See why I don't like hats?