Stereotypes Exist for a Reason

Last Saturday Chris and I were supposed to head to a funeral in Milwuakee. We got up, dressed and into the car. It was dead. Eww. I really didn't mean to write that as a pun. Anyway...

We called the nearby shop to have it jumped. An old, gnarly looking white-haired guy dressed in a sweater complete with crisp dress shirt collar peeking out rolls up in a pristine white Buick. (Bodyshop owner anyone?) The passenger door opens up and a short Mexican guy in mechanic's clothes hops out with a battery charger.

After realizing the car was in need of more than charging, we managed to start it up and drive it around the corner for exploratory surgery. Each minute meant this was going to be a hell of a lot more expensive.

Since I wasn't needed, I headed down the street to Starbucks for some coffee. As I sat sipping my grande light roast, I noticed they were promoting their new breakfast sanwiches by giving out samples. One of the baristas had them sliced up on a platter and was handing them out to passers by. To her left was one of Evanston's finest. Protecting the sidewalk outside of Starbucks from what I don't know. But he was propped up against a row of newspaper stands, yapping on his cell phone, which was pinned between his cheek and shoulder, and balancing on sandwich sample in one hand while eating another sample with his other. No donuts for our snooty suburban cops.

As I continued to stare (as I am prone to do while alone in public) I notice he drops one of the sandwich wrappers. The wind picks it up and it flits away from his feet. He's still yapping on the cell phone mind you. He starts to go after it (not a huge guy, but he definitely hasn't been eating his wheaties and doing his situps) but as it continues to flit away, he realizes no one is around (or so he thinks) and lets it go. It stops 6 feet from where he is standing and stays there. He doesn't bother to pick it up and throw it in the trash can it is resting next to.

I observe Mr. rolly-polly cop for a good 20 minutes more as he mows down no less than 4 more breakfast sandwich samples, continues on his phone chat and fights zero crime. I'm not even too certain he was aware of much going on other than the number of sandwiches left and the occassional beautiful yuppie mom who walked by with two tots in a doublewide jogger stroller.

Finally, a good half hour later he starts troll the meters out front looking for expired parking. And though I usually take great pleasure in seeing others get parking tickets, I was sort of hoping to see Sgt. Bacon, Egg and Cheese get busted by one of his superiors. Then again, there were more breakfast sandwiches to be had and somehow I think that would have been the more pressing matter.