Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Nothing much

My beats have just been a blur this week. This heat wave has been keeping people inside, even at night. Aside from a few parking tickets, a couple for speeding, I haven't done much. 

Dad and I had a fight yesterday, big one. About my career, and what I left behind. Dad insisted it was the family duty to take the blue, generations upon generations depended on me. I lost my cool, snapping back with how generations of dead men wouldn't care what I did, being an artist wouldn't be a disgrace to the family, stuff along those veins. Dad tried to get in a few words, but I cut him off and crossed the line, going off on how I was pressured in because of Harry's injury. He hauled off and slapped me, right across the face. The look on his face said everything I needed to know, if I hadn't been his son, I'd be a dead man. I stormed out, angry at dad, angry at myself. 

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Sunday date

I met her at the park around noon today. Still no name. It was well, hot is putting it mild. An unusual summer day here, slightly cloudy, bright, hot. The park itself had lots of shaded, winding walking, perfect for strolling or just plain old lounging. I'd brought a small bouquet of lilies, hoping to at least show off my gentlemanly side. And she...well, I'll call her Silk Worm, and Silk Worm was...dressed to impress. Now, she was beautiful by the standards of a dimly lit alley at night, but in day? I had to catch a breath. 

We had a nice walk through the park and lunch after. This oriental place dad always took the family to when I was a kid. It had vastly improved from what I remember it, going from a half decent place to take the family to a regular outing for the businesses that surrounded it. I paid and winced internally. Prices had gone up with the surroundings, I could manage it, but it'd be fish sticks and tater tots for a couple weeks. Wasn't the last time my wallet would scream at me, we hit a crepe place afterwards, I had a peach crepe, she strawberry.

I chatted with her about, well, her. I tried to keep it informal and not sound cop like. Simple stuff, how she got into art, why she started tagging, etc. She turned a couple of those questions back around,  it was kind of uncomfortable going into why I became a cop. I tried to skip past the parts of my brief days in college, but...I might've let slip I wasn't exactly content with my job.

We parted after about an hour chatting on that little corner crepe shop. My heart was hammering again, I'd set it up for us to meet Saturday.

Days off

I' m lucky in that I don't have to work weekends. Saturday and Sunday are the days I can catch up sleep and pretend I'm a human being instead of a blue garbed creature scuttling through the city streets at night. Although it's mostly sleeping and sitting around my apartment. I barely spend time here as is, mostly to sleep and cook a few meals, then its back on the beat. Once I shake the whole "Rookie" thing, I should be able to get more reasonable hours (800-1400 is generally "working hours") and have some free time in the evening.

But as is, I've got that date tomorrow, middle of the day in some park downtown. I think it's a date anyway. I wonder if I should bring flowers.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Found her

Right where we first met, actually. That business man was finally completed, in all it's glory. Faceless, stiff, it was almost like the graffiti itself was watching me. It was unnerving, to say the least. But there she was, leaning against the wall, lit by the dim glow of a street lamp. She called out to me, no malice in her voice, her tone surprisingly neutral for someone I had tackled a couple days earlier.

We chatted for a long while, talking about art, her graffiti. The entire time she never removed a monogrammed bandanna that concealed the lower half of her face. I gave her my name, she gave me her pseudonym, "Silk Worm". What could I have expected, really, I'm a cop, she's a vandal. But she did promise to meet somewhere, no mask for her, no badge and gun for me.

We both went our separate ways, my heart hammering the entire time. Did I just agree to a date? Dad would kill me if he found out, the cop and the criminal. Ironic.