connecting*the*dots

As I strolled home from having coffee downtown this afternoon, I paused before crossing Arlington at MLK, as two cars were already there — one a single woman in an SUV, the other a police car with a male officer driving and a female officer riding shotgun.

After eyeballing both drivers and getting the vibe back that neither were in much of a rush, I continued across the walkway.

Big mistake.

The female cop all of a sudden started screaming and pointing at me (I thought behind me at first, I couldn’t hear her), so I picked up my gate and — after landing safely on the other curb — turned around to see what the problem was. Greensboro’s finest then rolls down her window and yells, with attitude:

“You may not be in a hurry, but we have to be somewhere! Move!!”

Before I knew it they were gone, hanging a right and flying down MLK into the distance. I looked over to the SUV driver — thinking maybe she was thinking the same thing as me — but she just shrugged her shoulders and slowly turned in the opposite direction.

Cops. In a rush. No turn signal. No siren. No nothing, except for a frantic, bitchy scream of authority… in my neighborhood.

I didn’t even have enough time to give her the obligatory Jersey response of “fuck you.”