So: I’m a minority (of some sort, or so I claim) who has a “crystal clear criminal record with not even a citation for jaywalking”, yet for some reason the police think I associate with drug dealers and have harassed me countless times.

Uh-huh. //

That reminds me of the summer when my son was a tween and was supposed to stay indoors while I was at work. I came home unexpectedly and found him outside, soaking wet. His story? Some unidentifiable guys with bandanas covering their faces (yeah, seriously, like the old west) grabbed him and said they were kidnapping him. As they were running away with him someone saw what was happening and they dropped him in the swimming pool at the complex across the street. I just happened to come home right after he’d climbed out and made his way back across the street to our complex. Barely able to keep a straight face, I told him that we’d better call the police and report it lest they try to kidnap some other hapless kid. For some reason he wasn’t keen on that idea.

At age 30, that story still has the ability to make him ROFL to the point of tears.