Be afraid. Be very afraid.
"Put a bullet through her head!"
"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" The officer is standing away from the table, his preoccupied head bent down towards a notepad upon which he is scribbling - or maybe doodling.
"I said I'm going to put a bullet right through her head!" That oughtta get his head to look up! But it did not.
"And what would you do this with?"
"A gun, duh."
"What sort of gun?"
"Kind that shoots bullets."
"Hand gun? Revolver? Rifle?"
"Yeah, one of those. Haven't decided yet."
"So you don't even own a gun?"
"Purchase is imminent."
"Perhaps you should get back to us after your purchase."
Now the fucker finally looks down at me with eye contact seated in consternation at the interrogation table.
"Look, I'm trying to file a report on myself here. You don't seem to be taking it seriously."
"Like I said, come back after you make your purchase." He distractedly rubbed his chain like he was trying to remember something on his grocery list.
Police are trained to believe the worst in people. What's with this guy??
"It's your job to investigate threats and report them to the person in question."
"That's the fact, Jack."
"OK, well, here I am, threatening bodily injury. How you going to be useful ignoring me?"
"That's exactly how I plan to be useful."
Million cops in the world and I get the one truth-seeker. He's got me cornered but I'm forced to play out my hand.
"You sure you want to take that chance? Something happens later and people find out you did nothing, wouldn't want to be you!"
"I'll just have to chance it," he replied in borderline boredom.
"So you're not going to tell her anything?"
"Nope."
The word just hung in the air, mocking me, waiting for me to leave in defeat.
"Well, what if she tries tries to approach me?"
"Then you'll just have to tell her how you feel. But I'm not going to report you as a gun-wielding maniac just to get someone to avoid you." Read me like a fucking book. "Anything else I can't do for you?"
I'm supposed to be the one dishing out the sarcasm. Must be losing my touch to get played like this, so openly and obvious.
"Nope," I replied matching his earlier tone.
Then I sloughed my way out wondering why is it when I try to convince people I'm not an asshole they bet their life I am and when I try to convince them I am one they wholly refuse that too.
"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" The officer is standing away from the table, his preoccupied head bent down towards a notepad upon which he is scribbling - or maybe doodling.
"I said I'm going to put a bullet right through her head!" That oughtta get his head to look up! But it did not.
"And what would you do this with?"
"A gun, duh."
"What sort of gun?"
"Kind that shoots bullets."
"Hand gun? Revolver? Rifle?"
"Yeah, one of those. Haven't decided yet."
"So you don't even own a gun?"
"Purchase is imminent."
"Perhaps you should get back to us after your purchase."
Now the fucker finally looks down at me with eye contact seated in consternation at the interrogation table.
"Look, I'm trying to file a report on myself here. You don't seem to be taking it seriously."
"Like I said, come back after you make your purchase." He distractedly rubbed his chain like he was trying to remember something on his grocery list.
Police are trained to believe the worst in people. What's with this guy??
"It's your job to investigate threats and report them to the person in question."
"That's the fact, Jack."
"OK, well, here I am, threatening bodily injury. How you going to be useful ignoring me?"
"That's exactly how I plan to be useful."
Million cops in the world and I get the one truth-seeker. He's got me cornered but I'm forced to play out my hand.
"You sure you want to take that chance? Something happens later and people find out you did nothing, wouldn't want to be you!"
"I'll just have to chance it," he replied in borderline boredom.
"So you're not going to tell her anything?"
"Nope."
The word just hung in the air, mocking me, waiting for me to leave in defeat.
"Well, what if she tries tries to approach me?"
"Then you'll just have to tell her how you feel. But I'm not going to report you as a gun-wielding maniac just to get someone to avoid you." Read me like a fucking book. "Anything else I can't do for you?"
I'm supposed to be the one dishing out the sarcasm. Must be losing my touch to get played like this, so openly and obvious.
"Nope," I replied matching his earlier tone.
Then I sloughed my way out wondering why is it when I try to convince people I'm not an asshole they bet their life I am and when I try to convince them I am one they wholly refuse that too.
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