Thursday, January 3, 2013

Flirting

“She was just.....” he paused to take a deep breath before finishing the sentence, “.... flirting with me.”

“Flirting? You call that flirting?” I asked while securing the second hand cuff.

“Why were you running then?”

He pointed with a head nod (as he no longer had the use of his hands) at the girl behind him. “She ran....” he managed to stammer out before the next big gasp for air, “....so I ran too.”

I gave a sideways glance at the girl who had just managed to get to her feet and pull her pink sweatpants over her teenage hips.

“That’s quite the flirting technique.” I told her.

I had to wonder what school of flirting she had attended; a school which, I assume, most teenage boys would like all girls to attend if it actually existed.

I gave the young girl the opportunity to wear my second pair of silver (color) bracelets as backing officers arrived.................................

I first saw the “flirtatious” couple in the park pavilion. It was long past dawn and I had been patrolling with my lights off looking for burglars.

I caught sight of some movement in the pavilion so I slowly pulled into the parking lot and illuminated the area with my spotlight. I saw two young teenagers swiftly scramble to their feet and out of the bright light. They scrambled so quickly that if scrambling were an Olympic event they would have won gold.

As quick as they were on their feet they were fleeing into the field like rats might flee from a burning building. I began chasing after a quick radio transmission, “Foot pursuit!”

Dispatch followed up with, “Clothing description and direction of travel?”

“One female,” I said, as I paused to take in with curiosity the sight in front of me, “completely naked.....” I continued and could barely contain my laughter from the first announcement, “....and one male, fully clothed.”

As I chased them through the park with only the moonlight illuminating the way, I will forever have etched into my memory the two moonlit pasty white bouncing cheeks fleeing into the darkness. They were highlighted by a poorly done tramp stamp; I couldn’t help but think of the line from Cars, “Hey, do I spy a little pin striping tattoo back there?”

She was able to grab some clothing during the gold medal event. She managed to awkwardly put on the shirt while running but when it came to the pants she failed miserably; she tripped and sprawled out over the grass. I felt bad for the grass. She laid there for a moment in the field like a dog laying on a cool tile floor midsummer.

Her now noble boyfriend stopped running and stood in front of her as to block anyone’s view of his naked friend. He did not get to stand there very long as I grabbed him and slapped on the hand cuffs. He must have noticed the puzzled and dismayed look on my face as he quickly exclaimed that she was only flirting.

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