Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Detective Story (Or, Sgt. Suzanne "Pepper" Anderson)

This afternoon I was standing outside of my apartment building...smoking.

Yeah, I know. It sucks that I'm back on the sticks, but something kicked in a couple of weeks ago and I found myself dying for one...now I'm finding myself dying for them on a regular basis. All. Over. Again. Hopefully, next week I'll get back to a slightly healthier passion - overeating - so I can get off the cancer sticks.

Anyway, my super has asked me to stand closer to the street when I smoke - and - despite my previous misgivings and bitchings about it - today I complied. So, I stood next to a lamppost, right on the curb. As soon as I sparked the stick, a man came up to me.


I gave him a confused look and turned over my shoulder. No one was there - in fact, no one else was around at all. I should note: there is a Police Station on my block, so there very well could have been a hoard of folks who would answer to "Detective" amassed behind me.

"Detective?" he asked again. "Aren't you a detective?"

I nervously chuckled and said "Um...no...I'm just...smoking."

"Oh, sorry," he apologized. "I thought I knew you."

As he walked down the street, I considered what I was wearing. I was not in some Cagney and Lacey style pant-suit. I was not in some Police Woman Black Party drag. I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, jeans, and a dirty baseball cap.

Janitor? Maybe.

Urban homosexual in studied man-drag? Definitely.

Angie Dickinson as Sergeant Suzanne "Pepper" Anderson? Not even close.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i think you were missing the point. seems like you arent up on the latest gay gaymes going on in chelsea.

its like role play. clearly this person wanted to have a strip search, cavity inspection, to be locked up and handcuffed, tortured under duress, and badgered until you got your way.

the gays are playing these role play games in urban areas where the locale lends itself to the credibility (like you and the police station). i have heard this happens at firehouses, jails, etc

it happened to me just last week at the new york sports club. i was quietly stretching when i heard "excuse me, are you the trainer i am supposed to meet here?".... well, i said yes, because i took it as a sign that my bod was looking A-OK - clearly they wouldnt want a fatty training them, right? so i started giving tips and advice - but i was all confused when the "client" asked if i could show him some pointers about using the locker room.

i'll leave it there, but you get the point

i say milk it. call him in for questioning. withhold water and food until you get what you want.