While waiting, I wandered the perimeter and found a beautiful dark canopied walkway that’s a little neglected. A light afternoon breeze and an overcast sky made it a lot more somber than the picture reveals. It was the pungent smell of vegetation that made it seem otherworldly. Just a mostly forgotten access path that no one uses. In the thirty yard span of that path, I saw two rabbits, several squirrels and multiple birds hiding in plain sight. 

Landscapers in the distance were buzzing with blowers and weedeaters despite the rainy day. 

As I walked back through, a couple of them walked on the other side of the hidden oasis. 

“No manches!” I yelled loudly and then waited. (I used it in the sense of “No way!”)

Both of the landscapers laughed. One of them said, “Los pájaros estan hablando!” (“The birds are talking.”)

Naturally, I had to answer back. “Y no podemos dormir con tanto ruido.” (“And we can’t sleep with so much noise.”)

.

Years ago, a yokel police captain almost killed everyone on the road as he swerved, raced through traffic, and pulled me over. I was driving across the state because teleportation hadn’t been invented. I was speeding; there’s no question. Not by much, but I don’t think it really mattered what I was doing. 

I wasn’t being flippant with him. Quite the opposite. Whatever was going on with him that day, he was furious. Maybe the donuts had made his pants too small, or maybe he was mad that a black man was president. It’s my theory now that he thought I was someone else, someone with whom he had a problem that justified his dangerous maneuver to U-turn in two lanes of traffic and speed back in my direction. 

After he threatened to take me to jail out of the blue, he issued me a ticket and ranted. All I could hear was a red-faced anger-management racist on a power trip. He reminded me so much of my brother that I felt a little sorry for him. He didn’t realize how profoundly stupid he sounded. 

That’s when I got devious.

I wrote him a very professional letter, one using his full legal name, mentioning his stellar career (it wasn’t), and talking about how I very much wanted to help him with his medical condition. The entire letter was a work of art, building to an impeccable punchline. I mentioned that I understood how medical bills and unexpected medical conditions could impact a person. 

I went on to say that I had started a GoFundMe to help him with his medical condition.

And that I hoped that the funds would be sufficient to remove the stick from his ass. 

I mailed a version of the same letter to his sheriff. 

In that sense, my ticket was worth the payoff of imagining the policeman opening the letter and becoming absolutely furious, only to find out his boss got the same letter. There are some who should never become police officers and he clicked a lot of warning boxes. 

A couple of years ago, I was delighted to see that he was forced to retire for abuse allegations. 

I sent him a postcard after he was forced to resign: “It’s GoFundMe guy. Hope you didn’t get the stick out of your ass. You’re going to need it in there if charges are filed for what you’ve done. I’ll send you commissary money when you go in.” 

I’d still like to know whether he had the enormous stick removed.

.

One of my fellow crazy people who works at an inconvenience store asked me again why I haven’t followed through on my prank. I didn’t have a good excuse now that my eyesight is restored.

What could possibly go wrong if I run up and down Poplar Street or along the trail near my apartment?

Most of the FPD I’ve encountered have been great. Executing this prank will determine with great certainty whether they appreciate the joke.

Even though I have much better necessities to spend my money on, I ordered an orange prison jumpsuit this morning.

I’ll keep you posted. 🙂

PS The excursion train runs in front of my apartment. Maybe they’ll see me soon, waving and running.
.