What's Actually in Your Console Bag?

There are certain things you learn pretty quick when you start working in 911.

There are rules. Kind of like in Gremlins or Scream.

Rule #1. Never say the Q word.

Rule#7. If you say someone's name, they will immediately call.

Rule#10. Never announce that you are caught up (CAD can hear you).

And never come to work without enough supplies to survive at least a minor natural disaster.

Enter the console bag.

Every dispatcher seems to have one. Maybe it's a backpack. Maybe it's a tote bag. Maybe it's one of those giant insulated bags with seventeen compartments that looks like you're preparing to hike the Appalachian Trail instead of sitting at a console for twelve hours.

Whatever form it takes, the console bag becomes an essential piece of dispatch equipment.

Technically, most of what's inside has absolutely nothing to do with dispatching.

But that doesn't make any of it less necessary.

The Pharmacy

Let's start with medication.

Ibuprofen. Tylenol. Allergy medicine. Antacids. Cough drops. Band-Aids. Maybe some eye drops.

There's probably enough over-the-counter medication floating around the average communications center to open a very poorly regulated CVS.

Someone always has what you need.

Headache?

“Check my bag.”

Heartburn?

“I've got something.”

Allergies?

“Front pocket.”

Nobody really knows when dispatchers collectively decided they needed to operate a small pharmacy from their backpacks, but here we are.

The Snack Department

This may actually take up more room than everything else combined.

Crackers. Protein bars. Candy. Chips. Gum. Beef jerky. Instant noodles. Something involving peanut butter.

Then there's the emergency food.

Emergency food is different from regular food.

Regular food is what you planned to eat.

Emergency food is the granola bar that's been living at the bottom of your bag for six months because one day you're going to be trapped at the console, starving, and that smashed Nature Valley bar is going to save your life.

You won't throw it away.

You know better.

The moment you do, someone will call in sick, you'll get stuck four hours past your shift, and the vending machine will be empty.

The Electronics Store

Then we have chargers.

So many chargers.

Phone charger. Watch charger. Earbuds. Charging brick. Backup charging brick.

And at least one cable that nobody can identify.

You haven't owned the device it belongs to since 2019, but throwing the cable away feels irresponsible.

What if you need it someday?

You won't.

But it stays.

Climate-Control Equipment

Communications centers have an incredible ability to maintain several different climates within approximately thirty feet.

One console is comfortable.

The next is somewhere in northern Alaska.

Three feet away, someone has a fan running.

This explains why console bags frequently contain hoodies, blankets, fuzzy socks, small fans, or some combination of all four.

Outsiders might question why someone needs both a blanket and a fan at work.

Dispatchers understand.

Personal Survival Equipment

This category can contain just about anything.

Deodorant. Toothbrush. Lotion. ChapStick. Hair ties. Contact solution. Hand sanitizer. Spare glasses.

If you work long shifts, eventually you learn that anything you might need during the next twelve hours probably needs to come through the door with you.

Because once you plug in and put on the headset, leaving isn't always an option.

Oh Yeah... Work Stuff

Somewhere underneath all of this are the things that presumably justified buying the bag in the first place.

Pens.

Highlighters.

A notebook.

Maybe a training manual.

You'll find them eventually.

You just have to move the snacks, hoodie, three charging cables, bottle of ibuprofen, and emergency Pop-Tart first.

And Then There's The Item

This is my favorite category.

Every console bag has something that makes absolutely no sense to anyone except its owner.

A screwdriver.

A deck of cards.

Six Taco Bell sauce packets.

A flashlight powerful enough to guide aircraft onto a runway.

A sewing kit.

One sock.

A plastic fork collection.

Something is in that bag that would make another person ask:

“Why do you have this?”

And the dispatcher will almost always have a story.

Maybe the Bag Makes Sense After All

As ridiculous as our console bags can be, there is probably a reason we build them the way we do.

Dispatchers spend their careers preparing for things they can't predict.

We ask questions before they're needed. We think about what could happen next. We make contingency plans. We keep backups for our backups.

Then we come to work knowing that the shift we planned for and the shift we're actually going to have may be two completely different things.

Lunch might happen at noon.

It might happen at 4:30.

It might be interrupted three bites in.

The weather might turn bad. Someone might call in. A major incident might happen fifteen minutes before shift change.

So maybe carrying half of our worldly possessions to the console isn't that strange.

Maybe it's just another version of what dispatchers do every day:

Prepare for whatever comes next.

Although I'm still not sure why you need six Taco Bell sauce packets.

So now I want to know:

What's actually in your console bag?

And more importantly...

What's the weirdest thing in there?