Toilet Ruminations #43

A police officer showed up at my door this morning. He claimed that I was at a certain strip club last evening, followed one of the strippers when she left the strip club and then solicited her for sex. “How is it that you think this happened?” I asked. “You followed her car and at a corner you pulled up beside her and asked if she wanted to have quick sex in your car. She gave you her phone number and you texted her these messages.” The police officer showed me the texts on the small computer he carried in his hand. “Hi. It is me.” “I am ready if you are.” “Should we meet someplace?” “You are hot. I would love to have sex with you. Would $100 work? I am quick.” “Hello? Are you there?” I looked up at the police officer still tired from my late night out. “This is your phone number, correct?” the police officer asked me. “Yes, it is.” “And that black car in your driveway fits the description of the car you were driving,” the police officer said pointing at my car. I had to think fast. “Dammit. I can’t believe he did it again. Look officer, I was home last evening with my wife. My best friend from out-of-town has been staying with me. Last night I let him take my car. He must have taken my phone as well. He has done this many times before. I can’t believe he did it again.” I tried to be upset. “Can I speak with your friend?” the officer asked. “He is out now. Went to get coffee,” I replied. “I can’t not believe the bastard did this to me again.” “Well look sir, whether it was you or your best friend who followed and solicited the stripper I can not arrest either one of you because we do not have sufficient evidence. I have come to your house to let you know that what you or your best friend are doing could land either of you in jail. It is not ok to follow and solicit anyone for sex. This is against the law. We now know where you live. If we hear anything like this happening again we will take you to jail.” The officer was very serious when he told me this. My chest tightened. I was struggling to breathe. I thought I heard a helicopter overhead. “I understand officer. Makes sense. I certainly don’t want to break the law,” I lied. This seemed like a harsh punishment for just trying to have a good time. “I will talk with my best friend and make sure this never happens again. Please give my apologies to the stripper who this happened to. Must be frightening for her.” The officer looked at me like he knew I was the one who followed and solicited the stripper. He told me not to ever let it happen again and then left. I shut the door and felt great relief. I was still free. What kind of country is a person living in if they can not even try to pick up on a stripper without having a police officer show up at their front door?

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