Without saying a single word, I hit a trifecta in pissing off two young punk NY detectives who I squeezed in next to on the Long Island Railroad this morning while they were on their way to work together. Happy to say my mere presence spoiled their reading of the tabloids and daily sport talk. My tricks of the trade: 1 - After wearing the same sweatshirt on and off for three days, crashing here and there, and not showering in a day now, I smell like a hippies asshole. Police hate that for some reason. Even dirty cops dont smell this bad. 2 - My bag smelled like I filled it with weed and set it on fire. Really its only because I had breakfast on the platform and stuck the roach in the side pocket, but the level of discomfort this caused is almost beyond explanation. 3 - I just so happened to be listening to aggressive hip-hop at a very high level very early in the morning, and that hip-hop may or may not have had choice words for people in their profession. Just a coincidence, I swear it. Oh - I have a beard too. Shame on me.
Posted on: Mon, 01 Dec 2014 12:43:06 +0000
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