Cop and a Blacktress

So, as you know, I work on a plantation--a plantation of writing, crazy artists, and writing about crazy artists. I really enjoy getting know the artists and their process, as most of them are very friendly to the person writing a feature-length article on them. My favorite artist thus far has to be, hands down, the man I like to call "The Detective"--mainly because that is his occupation. Based in the Pacific Northwest, he's a man of the law who draws composite sketches of criminals based on witnesses accounts. When he's not doing that, he's doing high-class commissioned portraits. He is, in short, bad ass and artistic-- and cool as ice.

The thing I like most about him is that we've sort of developed a rapport that has lasted long after his article was published. He sends the funniest emails ever, and I thought it was behoovy of me to share them with you, my gentle readers.

I knew from our first interview that The Detective and I would get along. He was already a reader of our magazine, so he was all flattered by the idea of being interviewed. He was really long-whinded (which I love when writing an article, because it means I'll never have a shortage of quotes), and he laughed at all my jokes. Before we'd even spoken, he'd done a little research on me, reading my past articles to see if I had the chops. I immediately told him, "Detective, I'll bring nothing but my A-game with this article--primarily because you could have me killed and make it look like an accident."

We had a good long laugh at that one, and we only calmed down once he said, between chuckles, "Yes, that's true."

So, needless to say, I got down to business--but there was also some pleasure.

The Detective told me he'd never been to NYC, and I told him all about our fast-paced lifestyle. I also explained that I could never live anywhere else, because I hate nature. He couldn't believe it. After that convo, he sent me the following email:

Sojo,

Nice talking to you today. I'm still laughing. I've never met anyone who doesn't like nature. Just for you, I'm attaching the photo collages I sent out with our last Christmas card. You're going to see a lot of my family, but what I really want you to see is the number of photos taken outside--in the woods, trails on the sides of mountains, on the beach, in parks, in kayaks on the water, there's even a picture under the water, etc. Pay special attention to the photo of my whole family on the beach building an enormous sand castle. You want to talk dirt... Okay, it's sand, but pretty much the same thing. I love it outside. Maybe I should write an article about you. In Seattle, you'd be the fascinating one! Like talking to an alien.* "Yes that's right. She doesn't like nature!"

Let me know if you have any more questions--I will have more time this weekend, but right now I have to go to bed because I have to get up at 0230 to go serve a warrant. This could be a wild one--house full of armed gang members involved in an assortment of crimes. It's not as bad as it sounds--we're sending in the SWAT team first. - D

Please note that this last paragraph has not been doctored in any way. The Detective is hard core. Note the use of military time when he tells me what time he has to wake up. Also note how chill he is: "it's not as bad as it sounds--we're sending in the SWAT team first." Oh, okay detective--and when you're done, you'll all have some donuts and coffee and go make love to your wives.

I love the detective. In my head, he and I could be a dynamic duo, if not the basis of a TV movie. He'd be solving gritty crimes by day, and by night he would come home and draw his victims. Only with the help of Sojourner would he be able to unlock the truth and crack the case. I think it'd be something like this:

I'm the little black boy and he's Burt Reynolds.

The detective and I still talk, and he sends me emails to let me know how things are going. Sometimes he asks for favors, like advanced or discount copies, and because of our bond--and his power (see above re: killing me and making it look like an accident)--I often give in. He's always really nice, but he makes sure I never forget who I'm talking to. Take, for example, this short gem he sent a few days ago:

Sojo,

I've been busy all morning arresting a guy--got a full confession though. You find anyone to help transfer that file?
I'll be back in an hour--got to go meet a victim.
-D

Was he telling me I only had an hour to get him the file or I'd be sleeping with the fishes? Was he mentioning a "victim" just to give me the willies? I didn't even give him time to explain--that file was in his inbox in 12 minutes.


*[The Detective thinks I'm from another planet simply because I said to him, "I don't get why anyone would want to go outside and pretend to be poor. I don't want 'the stars as my blanket'-- I want a blanket as my blanket!!"
I don't get what's so crazy about that.
Oh, and fyi-- one of his family photos showed his son with a black gf--holla at interracial love!]