location: the back of an anchorage police department cop car

who dunnit: my client. and me.

destination: taco bell.

yes. it's true. i have officially been de-virginized to riding in cop cars. officer lars tulip (no, he's not a pornstar), my client, and i had dinner together at taco bell. but i get ahead of myself.

there is virtually no leg room (and i have short legs) in the back seat. the vinyl upholstery envelops your buttocks making you wonder just how many buttocks the seat has enveloped exactly. while i didn't look around at other cars on the road, i wonder if they thought i was a dangerous threat to society. because i am. oh yes. i am criminal.

i guess cop cars now come equipped with laptops. officer tulip was instant messaging his fellow co-horts at red lights. i need to get me one of those. if only we could add hunting and pecking on one's laptop to the already hand-consuming tasks of talking on the cell phone, drinking coffee, applying make-up, shifting gears, plucking nose hairs, smoking that butt, crocheting those mittens you need to finish for that special someone--you know, the normal mindless necessities to achieve one's physical and mental jumpstarts of the day that can easily be achieved while driving down the road.

re-direct: taco bell. who knew steak chalupas were so costly? 7.29 for a chalupa value meal? i could raise my own cow and grow my own e. coli-infested green onions for that price. and on a social services salary? all i know is it's a good goddamn thing i don't have little Norfleets running around. we'd be dumpster-diving with prices like that.

re-direct no. 2: taco bell. the dinner conversation was pleasant. awkward silences. naturally. default question: "so where in alaska have you been before?" default question no. 2: "what do you like to do in your free time?" my question: "what the hell were the patrons of taco bell thinking about our table o' three?"

i'll always look back on this experience with fondness. oh the life of an advocate.