There were two plain clothes policemen in the courtyard of my building this morning, jovial chaps, said good morning as if they were pleased to see me. Every copper has his method, I enjoyed theirs, say good morning cheerfully and see if I met their eyes.
Out on the street were two more plain clothes officers, and the victim of whatever crime had been committed, a tall, slender blonde lady. These two policemen were showing much more concern for her welfare than I have ever received from the law. I can't blame them, she was beautiful and a little distressed. These two men looked at me much less cheerily. They had chosen the tough cop method. It was all very amusing to me, an innocent man, probably disconcerting to those who are guilty.
It was natural the police chose to comb through my abode after a local crime, the joint is full of thieves and liars, beggars, junkies and loonies. They view me as a gentleman down on his luck, apologize if they swear in front of me. I do nothing to dispell their image of me, it makes my life easier. These people don't disturb what they don't understand, my courtesy and quietness freaks them out.
The two cheery coppers were plainly tough boys, middle aged men who had been and seen enough. I liked them, they reassured me, men like these ensure that I can sleep soundly at night. The tough guys out front played their role sweetly too, the blonde was a brilliant damsel in distress, it was a great show all round.
Amidst all the acting, the playing on the stage, a crime of some kind had been committed, something real enough to attract four detectives. Life has pointy bits, sharp edges when real things happen, and we play our roles around them. It's all very amusing.
Parkstreet.
www.kentparkstreetblog.com
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