This is one aspect of the night I'll share, the rest, not now, and maybe never. Not that it's shameful, I'm just feeling it in my heart. Don't feel very good at the moment.
I was in a tank and called out to do some more paper work. I was just starting the feel the pains in my chest as I sat in the hall slightly shivering. I was in plain view of all the other tanks, thick glass walls, four or five, I wasn't paying much attention. The cop was on the other side of a wall that had a slot to speak and push forms through. Their were some women right across from me in a tank and one next to me on the phone.
I can tell you the woman's name and where she lives, though I have no need to. When I went through all the forms and tickets I went home with, somehow her's were mixed in. Even her driver's license.
So, I'm in a chair, in a hallway, in one muddy slipper moccasin. The girl across the hall yells for me to close me eyes as see drops her pants to use the toilet. The girl on the phone is about in tears. I shouldn't say girl: she's 12 years older then I am and can't get a hold of anybody.
I still don't know if the cop told me to do this, but it sounded like he asked someone to calm her down. She was swearing and banging the phone on the receiver holder after each disappointing call. So I leaned over and brushed her leg, saying it'll be alright. Her demeanor changed from black to pink. "Are you my guardian angel?", she asked smiling and took my hand. She started rubbing it all over her ass and front of her corduroy pants. Nobody else seemed to notice or care. The cop continued to ask me questions as my hand got increasingly warm from friction. I just stared at my wet and muddy sock that was almost falling off my foot.
�2003 Daniel J Harris