I had three police situations yesterday.
Three times, i was confronted by an officer and eluded the grasp of John Law.

I guess you could call it a rough day.

I woke up late for work on a friend’s couch at 7am. I took a $30 cab ride to round up my uniform and put in a good 9 hours. My kind call them "straight jobs". I can't say I'm a fan, but they keep my head above water.

It was getting dark as I made my way home, and i walked into a martini and dancing party that apparently was taking place at my apartment. A glass of vodka was shoved in my hand and friday night was underway.

Now, I told myself that i was going to start running again that day. Who knows, I might be cruising to Cabo with John Mayer in a few weeks, might want to get in shape for the beach.

If anyone doesn’t know what i’m talking about:

it seems John Mayer has somehow commandeered a military aircraft carrier. He is going to throw a music festival on the deck while the ship sails from southern California to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

There’s a lot of great music lined up for this trip. A long list of talented acts includes Guster, DJ Logic and our friends O.A.R., all on board to jam and party. They’re letting some lucky band join in on the fun, but it’s a major selection process. Every band in the world wants to play on a rock & roll fantasy cruise. There are literally thousands of groups in the running for this gig.

Well, the votes are in, and the thousands have been cut down to the finalists. Thanks to everyone who voted, Parker House is lucky enough to be in that zone. I’m not going to get my hopes up or anything, but it is certainly a possibility that i’ll be playing that f*%king ship. Fingers are crossed.

So back to the story,

Running was my plan, and i was going to stay the course- dance party or no dance party. I put a good dent in that martini and trekked outside for the first run of the year.

It was freezing cold, so i picked up the pace to stay warm. I made my way to the end of my street and started to feel pretty good out there. Then, out of the corner of my eye, i noticed the nose of a police car taking the corner with me. He pulled up alongside, turned on his lights and rolled down the window.

“Sir! I need you to stop running! Right now!”

I started to slow down and looked at him in disbelief.

“Stop right there! Don’t move.”

“What?!”

“Just don’t move!”

He got out of the car quickly and spoke into the radio on his chest about a potential perpetrator. It was freezing when i stopped moving, so i put my hands in my pockets. He started to step away from me like i was armed.

“Get your hands out of your pockets! Just don’t move. Where are you coming
from?”

“What is going on?”

“Where are you coming from?!”

“Washburn.”

“What? What is that? Where are you coming from?”

“My house! I live on Washburn, Right there!”

We were standing less than a hundred yards from my street- i pointed at it, and this Brookline police officer still didn’t know what i was talking about. He didn’t know the streets on his own detail? Maybe he was a town cop that was new in town.

Turns out a safer bet would be that he’s an idiot. I had to explain once more how there was a street named Washburn, within eyesight, that i lived on, right, over, there. and i’m still pretty sure he didn’t get it.

“What are you doing out here?” he barked.

I gave him a moment to guess, along with an unamused face.

“You’re running?”

“Yes I’m running! See? Running shoes, running clothes... running.”

I still don’t think he believed me. He reminded me not to move and got back on the radio, asking for more details on the criminal.

“Stand by.” headquarters crackled back.

We stood there for a moment and i just looked at him like “What the f$%k, buddy?” I’m just trying to go for a run here.

“There was a B & E in the neighborhood.” he said.

Now, call me crazy, but if you’re trying to catch a burglar in the neighborhood, wouldn’t it help to know what neighborhood you’re in? He tried to avoid my look of disdain.

His radio came back on-

“Witnesses say the suspect was wearing a light blue ski cap.”

The cop actually looked up at my head to check if i was wearing a hat.

“Ok, you’re free to go.”

Are you kidding? Criminals wearing hats can easily take the hat off! It’s the oldest trick in the book!

Well, I didn’t need to give him a lesson in the art of disguise, so i just got on the move. Getting back in a running routine was hard enough without the police meddling.

I did a halfway-decent job of running a mile and panted my way up the steps to the sounds of dance-rock and elated martini drinkers. My drunken friends were in just as much disbelief of my running as the cop, but once i changed out and got a drink in my hand all was forgotten.

We have this problem at Washburn where dance parties (pants optional) erupt in our kitchen without warning... unless you count flagrant drinking as the warning. Either way, those drunks were getting down!

...right about the time the cops came.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* (with obvious cop-timbre)

Being a little late to join the party, I was the only one in good condition to speak with authorities. I jumped up and tried to quiet everyone down. Not a lot of success there. I answered the door-

"Hi... This is about the music being loud, isn't it?"

The cop seemed to have some prepared statement that was derailed by me just immediately admitting to the crime.

"This is... uhm, you guys are… Uh, yeah."

"I'm really sorry, I know it's loud. We'll turn everything down and be quiet."

Meanwhile, Girl Talk's delightful mash-up of pop hits is blaring in our kitchen. People are still dancing, and some pants are off. Pants-off dance-off with a cop at the door. Perfect.

"Mark!" i shouted to my roomate down the hallway, "Turn the music down!"

The cop leaned in the doorway to look towards the kitchen. Mark didn't hear me. The dance party was way too intense, and as if on cue he grooved past the doorway with some fantastic dance moves. The cop looked at me with the same face of disdain that i had for the last cop.

"I'm sorry, man- I'll take care of this and quiet everyone down."

"Well, you had better because if I come back here you are going to court, and my chief specifically told me to come here, and..."

If the dancing and pounding music wasn’t enough chaos for my cop-conversation, a black housecat runs out the door as we’re talking.

“Oh sh*t! Was that Priest or Marley? …I’m sorry for swearing.”

"Was that... what?"

There are two black cats in my building. One, Priest, is a streetwalker. He can come and go as he pleases, but Marley is a new kitten that is not allowed outside. All I saw was black, and no one knew who just ran out.

“One of the cats can’t go outside!”

The cop had no protocol for this situation. He definitely lost his place with the riot act, and now this cat debacle was a new and interesting problem. He tried to help to the best of his abilities.

“Was that… Is that a cat that can go outside?” he looked around the stairwell like there was a bank robber in there somewhere.

“I don’t know!”

“Well, um… about the party… and the cat? Uh…”

He didn’t know what to do. I went into the living room to ask around, no one knew anything about which cat was where. The drunks were confused, the cop was confused… this was not going well.

As I looked around, the cop called to me and reminded me to keep it down on his way out. He bailed. I don’t blame him, Washburn is a tough place to govern.

After the cop left, I went to close down the kitchen dance party. They were not happy, and no one even believed that a cop had come. After much ado and a little debate, the party quelled and everyone started to mellow out.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* (definitely the cops again)

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Round three. We were really being good this time! Everyone was quiet and I think we were even playing some sort of board game. I guess it was almost as much of an offense as running… so what now? Does this mean I’m going to court?

I answered the door. It was the same cop.

“Hey, are we really too loud? I thought we took it down enough.”

“No, it’s not that…uh, with all the confusion about the, uh… cat, I left without taking your names or information. The Chief was pretty upset with me…”

I could tell he was new at this. I told him my name and he asked where I work. That was a long answer, which ended in me giving the cop a free CD and him being very excited.

"Wow! Can i really keep this?"

“Yeah, don't worry about it. Alright man, that’s pretty much my info. Do you want to come in for a beer or something?”

He definitely thought about it, but knowing that the chief was already not happy with him, it was kind of out of the question.

The rookie cop made his way back to the cruiser, and we got back to the booze. At some point in the night someone asked about when the police came, and I didn’t know which instance they were talking about- at that point there were too many to count. That was easily the most police-time I’ve had to deal with in one day, and I hope it stays that way.



---Boots