novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- if you could catch crime like a cold today i was inside a police station for the first time. the blocky officer led me down a hallway gated and locked with two different keys. another hallway and two more keys, giant this time, bigger than a finger. "if you think that's big, you should see the keys at lockup," he said to me. he was very conversational. we walked into a small room lined with thick glass and white desks. a dirty homeless man sat in an adjoining room, mumbling and staring at us as we moved. the officer waved to him. "so, you're gonna work for the autistic kids, huh?" the officer asked me. i nodded and tried to relax my hand as he manipulated my fingertips over the scanner. smush, turn, smush and turn. thumb. next hand. each individual finger twice. "i don't envy you on that one. once we found a retard in a tree and could only get him down by giving him cheeseburgers," he said as i watched my prints appear on the screen above the scanner. i held my fingertips close to my face and compared them to the image; no contrast, thin maps of line. "i like a change of pace," i mumbled to him. "i'm sick of office work." my eyes would not settle on any one thing. my fingers felt clammy, as if the guilt in this room was palpable. contagious. i almost caught a crime as easily as i catch colds even though i am just here for a job. fingerprint me to make sure i'm not a child molester so i can work with kids. "i hear you on that one," the officer said. "i'm going crazy being inside the past month. i keep asking to get back on the street!" he balled his hands into fists and flexed his arms. "back on the street!" with that, he guided me out of the room and into the locked hallways. he did not look in my eyes once the whole time. 4:06 am - 02.05.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||