7:09 a.m. I am back on the case from Tuesday when I got pulled over for reckless driving. I know that my Subject leaves for work at roughly 8:30a.m., so in about 45 minutes I plan to set up near the gas station he stopped at before. If I pick up the tail there, he's very likely not going to notice.
Yesterday I had to do an interview with a Subject under a the pretext of being an insurance company representative. I have the Subject sign a form and give a brief, meaningless interview. Meanwhile, I'm looking around the home for signs that she's working. I'm watching her range of motion as she walks in front of me. This Subject, we'll call her Nikita, is supposed to have back and shoulder issues and I don't notice anything obviously unnatural about her movements.
Nikita is from Russia and has a thick accent. She's about 4'10" tall, blonde, a bit on the heavier side. She keeps saying, "You are so skeeeeeny! What do you do to be so skeeny? Harold! (That's her husband.) Come here and look at how skeeeeeny she is!" I smile. Harold comes in and shakes my hand. They both offer me a plate of pastries and soda. I decline, though those brownies look delish. "Eat!" She says. "You will get sick you are so skeeeeeny!" I smile. "Are you sure you're not Italian?" I ask. She looks puzzled for a second and then laughs. I like her.
We sit down at the kitchen table in their tidy little 1960's bungalow. There are small ceramic pigs all over the place. "Harold, he like the pigs. You see the pigs? He put them everywhere. Over there the biggest." She points to a three foot tall pig statue in the corner of the room. It is standing on two legs and smelling a daisy. Ugh.
Nikita is a kind and has a ready smile. She tells me that she has breast cancer and that she has terrible pain in her knees. She says that she lives with horrible pain everyday. Poor lady. Harold doesn't say much. Everytime I glance at him he's staring at my chest. I wrinkle my nose. Yoo hoo! Up here, buddy. I hold my case file open in front of me. Harold blinks a few times like he just woke up from a trance.
I have Nikita sign the forms and they once again offer me food. I finally relent and take a brownie as I walk out the door. Mmmmm. Good.
8:06 a.m. Okay. I'm heading to the intersection. More later.