187

To hear the opinons and conversations of ridiculous middle-aged, mindle-minded police men of the state is to realize empirically, as a law abiding citizen, what is theorized by the average groundling crook. Idiots in the private sector become demigods with a badge. For Christ.

The beefy, bull headed Minotaur-in-uniform clanked his fork against the diner plate, infuriating me. His enormous calloused paws spiraling the bent fork into my flesh.

Though undoubtedly a dimwit, what transformed him from a man into a trudging elephant worthy of contempt, were his ridiculous blue shorts. The shorts left no crural room on the sides between the polyester and his trunks, an unintended effect of coffee, donuts, and a misinterpretation of who is allowed to be smug.

He turned and walked to me, as if alerted by an instinct born in the wild. His slow, heavy movements kicked off the powdered dander of his ashy knees, like a pachyderm kicking up dust as it walks. Clumsily swinging his heavy trunk-like arms, I think to myself, now and always, ‘If only he would use that gun to rinse himself off one time…”