Tuesday, September 19, 2006

i love a man in uniform...

You may have been wondering where my platonic burrito buddy is. The answer? The Police Academy. Nope, I’m not kidding. In a few short months, my beloved Big C will be a San Francisco Sheriff, which basically means that he’ll handle jail prisoners and be a bailiff, a la Roz from Night Court. Having quit his snazzy office job, where if you’ll recall, he was responsible for announcing the arrival of the Roach Coach on the PA system, he’s already been given a uniform and a gun.
In addition, he has no access to e-mail. Chris doesn’t own a computer as “the internet is for pedophiles and geeks.” So, we’ve been out of touch and I’d been meaning to call him and catch up all last week.
As I drove home Friday night, guess who called?
“Chris! Oh my god, I miss you so much. How are you?”
“Jesus Christ. Relax, woman.”
“Sorry. What’s up?”
“I haven’t talked to you in two weeks. Wanna go get dinner?”
I almost crashed the car.
“Christopher Michael, that is the cutest thing I have ever heard in my life.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“No, no, no, no. I’m sorry. I’ll pretend not to be incredibly touched.”
“Good. I’ll be over in an hour.”
I made a big dinner for the boys, Alex, Mikey and I enthralled by stories of Sheriff boot camp and glock distribution. It began to sink in. He’s really doing this. I suspected he was serious when I got a letter from the Sheriff’s Office in the mail, alerting me that I’d been designated a “friend or acquaintance” and requesting that I write a letter of recommendation, speaking to Chris’ reliability and overall character. And he’d come over every Sunday afternoon with a case of beer, taking over the couch and filling us in on his psychiatric tests, personality interviews and lie detector testing.
But finally seeing him sitting at the dinner table, giving us the scoop of cadets vomiting along the training course and getting angry that I wouldn’t let him bring his gun over, I finally realized.
I’m fucking golden. I can like, kill people and run red lights and litter. Pull me over? I don’t think so. Do you know who my burrito buddy is? Yeah, that’s what I thought…

1 comment:

Bonita said...

I can't fucking believe this shit either! How in the world did he pass the psych eval?? I mean, do they allow police officers to wear Nikes??