I remember it.
I was 14 years old or so. Something like that.
And the cop came up to me. Plainclothes cop, and a damned nice fella, or so it seemed.
He was polite as heck anyway . . .
“Can you come with me”, he asked me out of the blue. “Our boss wants to speak with you”.
Who are you, I asked.
Apparently he was the “Constable” on beat or something in that part of New Delhi (back in the day).
And apparently his “boss” wanted to see me, though he wouldn’t tell me why.
And the boss was the polar opposite of the guy that took me to him.
Rude, abrasive, condescending and IMPOLITE to a T.
Not only did he not tell me why he brought me to the tent, but he pestered me up and down for inane details (inane because he wouldn’t do me the courtesy of telling me WHY he hauled me in).
Just wouldn’t tell me.
Bully boy to the extreme as compared to the other cop.
Good cop, bad cop. Strike a bell? Hehe.
(Anyway, yours truly has had a long history with Delhi Police, most notably so that high court case which is still very much there all over the Internet, despite 2009 being a LONG time off (or 2008 I believe it all happened in)).
He let me go finally.
“What the fuck would I want to do with you”, was what he told me, minus the English F bomb, but he used a local variant of it.
I went home. Told Mom about it.
She was “worried”, but not because of anything else other than “the cops must be right!”
Remember, the cops were “right” when they booked me for “kissing” (I didnt even kiss, LOL) my own wife too!
And remember, it does no good to protest and speak of RIGHTS.
So says yours truly’s family . . . until the shoe lands on the other foot, and then of course . .
but anyway, Dad didnt say much initially.
Took me to the guy. TO “find out” what I did.
Nothing, said the cop.
Excruciatingly polite - - I couldn’t believe it was the same guy.
Apparently there had been a string of car stereo robberies around the place and they thought despite “knowing I didnt do it” that I might have, or some such bullshit.
And of course, back home my Dad said “I wouldn’t like what he was going to say”, but he said it anyway, and said “my long hair was the reason”.
Well, I still have it for a reason Dad. And it aint the girls as you once so nicely told me. Hee. Hee.
(Like you very rightly said, "they'll like me anyway", hehe. Hey. Gotta give credit where credit is DUE!)
But anyway, I like cops in general.
They’re generally good people and have a tough job to do.
I’ve spoken about being “stopped” randomly at night in the Southern United States, and I could have complained about that. But I didnt.
I co-operated with them, and till date, they’ve been nothing but polite to me.
Not so the police officers that took me in India during that “kissing case”.
And certainly not the police commissioner who claimed “I’d never get a job in IT” (before then going on to rip his own guy a new one behind the scenes).
(Before the High Court intervened, and we all know what happened then!).
And certainly not the guy who questioned me all those years ago ...
Anyway, I still have those nice (not) memories.
And for whatever reason, I thought fit to bring it up.
Stereotyping, my friend, sucks. But it happens . . .
And so long as the person who “has to do it” is at least halfway polite and somewhat semi-apolegetic about it, I’ll take it . . .
. . . with a pinch of salt, or a grain of it.
Point of all this, again?
Well, much to your surprise my dear reader this time none really.
Other than “brain fart” and my long hair.
But here is the best damn fitness System out there anyway - - - The 0 Excuses Fitness System.
Potbellies have been known to disappear almost over night when on this program, and more . . .
And I’m out. Back soon!