Monday, January 18, 2010

I Couldn't Tell Him

A few years ago I had a silent caller. Once he started calling he kept calling no matter how many times I hung up on him or shouted obscenities. This went on for months, maybe once or twice a week. I tried to block the calls through the phone company but Verizon really couldn't do anything. So I called the police. I was able to get the offender's number from caller ID, so when the young officer arrived I was prepared.

He was a young Asian man with very sharp corners on his pants, shirt and tie. His buttons seemed to sparkle against his perfect black uniform. When he came in he took the phone, sat on the couch, and went to work.

He happened to not only get someone on the phone from my caller, but he also spoke their particular dialect. Finally we got to the bottom of the case. It was a very old man who didn't understand English, and may not have really known what he was doing, so I was promised he wouldn't call again.

I walked the officer to the door and shook his hand thanking him for taking care of my problem. As he turned towards the elevator to leave it was then I saw it... The back of his uniform was grey from all the cat hair he picked up while sitting on my couch.