Saturday, August 26, 2006
(manson, ia) rousted!
(photo from yesterday's drive around town)
Last night after completing my previous post, I sat and did e-mail for awhile. Then the town police car drove by, turned around, and pulled up beside me. The officer--who was not one of my three cousins who are police officers in the county--looked like he was maybe thirty or so and had a shaved head. I rolled down my window.
"Hello there. What are you up to?"
"I'm working on my computer."
"Well, I saw your out of state plates."
"I'm from here. I'm back for a family reunion."
"You know, I don't recognize you. How long have you been working here?"
"Eight years? What's your name?"
"Oh, I remember you. I'm Jeremy Freese. I was a couple years ahead of your [brother's name]. What year did you graduate?"
"I graduated in '89. What's [brother's name] doing?"
""He's in [town]. He works at the [business]. Your car's been here awhile."
"Well, I was trying to work in the park, but then these kids came through throwing rocks."
"Did they throw rocks at you?"
"No, but I decided not to wait around and see."
"Yeah, I just had to tell those kids to go home. The big one is eighteen years old, can you believe that?"
"He needs to find some friends his own age."
"He can get into a lot more trouble than those other kids can."
"I'll say. Anyway, I was just finishing up and then I was going to head on home."
"Okay, well, you have a good night."
"You too. Hey, say hi to [name] for me when you see him."
Nice guy. I can't imagine being a police officer here for eight years, though. All those times driving over the same few streets. I would stop and talk to everyone I saw hanging around with out of state plates as well. (Of course, said out-of-staters are especially suspicious when they are typing away on their computers in their car in the library parking lot at 11:30pm.)