I wouldn't say that I'm generally what people would describe as the "suspicious type". I have have the same boyish charm that I did in Grade 5, the same dopey eyes, the same crooked little smile--hell, I still get my hair cut in the school boy style (parted to the right). In fact, about the only thing that garners suspicion are my bowties, and it's always from members of the opposite sex, who look on wearily as if I may try to convert them to Mormonism.
Even my lime green pickup truck Betty, a classic '68 "Vanity Model" Chevy, attracts nothing by adoration.
Yet today, there was something about B that made the long arm of the law put on his leather gloves and approach me with caution in a parking lot. I should say "long arms", as there was a pair of Smokies giving me the 20 questions treatment.
I had thought nothing of the Cowtown Police paddy wagon driving the wrong way down a one way street behind The Palomino; the cops rarely observe traffic laws, and I didn't figure that they would pick today to start--it was cold out. I was toasty warm in my pheasant hunting curling sweater, a nice burgundy paisley bowtie, Arnold Palmer cardigan, light brown fedora, and sharp dark brown slacks. I felt like my mother's pride and joy on two legs! But that inflated opinion of myself would spring a leak when I noticed the coppers from the paddy wagon milling around Betty's nose. As I strolled over to put my parking chit in the windscreen, the one po-po startled back into the other, and things took an unfamiliar turn:
PP- "This your vehicle?"
B- (tipping my hat back)"Sure is! What a beauty, eh?"
PP- "Over the last 40 minutes I have observed you at three different locations around the city. Once at 14th and 11th. . ."
B- "Well, I actually saw you guys at 10th and 12th earlier, if that's what you were driving about 40 minutes ago."
PP- "Yes. And I am curious as to what you're up to."
". . .what you're up to?" Is that real copspeak?
B- "I'm a beer salesman for Steam Whistle Brewing."
PP- "Is that your homebrew?"
B- (I tried not to get snippy)"No. It's certainly no homebrew. We brew a pilsner beer in a National Historic Site at the base of the CN Tower--"
B- "Our brewmaster is from Pilsner Urquell, the original home of the style--"
PP- "Yes--fine. So what are you doing?"
B- "Well. . . typical salesman type things. I drive around to retailers and licensees. . ."
PP- "Yes--Is it typical for you to make so many stops?"
B- ". . . yes. I'm the only guy for the entire province, so I've got to keep moving."
PP- "I see."
B- "Can you call my boss and tell him that you've seen me all over town; he'd be awful pleased to hear that I'm working so hard."
PP- "Thank you."
B- ". . . keeping warm?"
PP- "Yes. Thank you."
Jumpin' Jeepers! What kind of crime spree would I be able to fashion in a bright green pickup truck while wearing a bowtie? I don't mean to flatter myself, but I have a university education: if I was going to go on a bloody rampage, I wouldn't wear a silk bowtie.