...a man in a car stopped me while I was on a walk with Ozzy. He had seen me give directions to another who stopped me. He told me he was a policeman and needed to know where that man was headed.
It was so strange. I felt in my gut that the man was not a policeman. Why would there be a man in the passenger seat who seemed to be dozing? If he was close enough to the first driver to see him asking for directions, why didn't he just put the medal to the pedal and follow him? The first person asking for directions didn't seem to be trying to evade a tail. He seemed fairly relaxed.
I didn't ask for ID. The thought occurred to me, but the interaction happened very quickly. The second time he asked me, I answered him by saying disbelievingly, "You're a policeman?? Really???". The man gave an exasperated sigh and pulled away. I started to try to recall some details about the guy in case I heard of something strange happening later and would need to come forward to perform my civic duty. Things like the make and model of the car (a Mazda 6), what he looked like (like many Israeli's, dark with dark eyes and dark, curly hair), what he was wearing (a brown and white striped polo shirt).
And then--this really amused me--a third car stopped me. But this guy really did need directions--I almost chortled out loud as I told him I couldn't help him.
So that's that. I guess this will end up in the annal's Baila's Unsolved Mysteries. Feel free to speculate or make up a story about what this was all about. I was going to do that, but I'm really tired.
Incidentally, to those of you who accused me of getting as much mileage out of Nablopomo as I can by putting this into two posts--you are absolutely right. I hang my head in shame.
And now I better hit publish to get this in on time.
The Stuff That Lasts, Part Deux
2 months ago