Monday, June 13, 2005

6/13/05

6:32 a.m. I am in line at a Thornton's gas station. I have my 64 oz mug of tea and a blueberry muffin. This is a small town in central Illinois. Small, but not so small that the people look inbred.

There is a female sheriff's deputy standing behind me. Her red hair is pulled back severely and flattened on her head. Her skin is pale and she is wearing no make-up so that her eyes sort of merge into the rest of her face. She's got really lovely bone structure, though, and rosebud lips. I have a sudden urge to play makeover. Just a little color on your cheeks and some mascara, darling... If I were a cop, I'd at least try to be a cute cop. I smile to myself. When I was a little girl I hung out with the boys in the neighborhood. I just couldn't understand the girls with their Cabbage Patch doll obsession. I would much preferred climbing trees, riding a BMX bike, and trespassing on construction sites. Only I'd wear a pretty dress while I did it, thank you very much.

I pay for my breakfast and climb into my truck. I've got 10 minutes to get to my surveillance. I did an initial drive-by when I got in yesterday evening. There were two cars in the driveway. When I arrive this morning one from the day before is gone and there is a third vehicle there. I write down the plate number, make, and model. I take my morning master shot and set up my work station in the back.

As soon as I log in I find an email from a fellow supervisor, we'll call her Sugar, who runs cases down in the southeast. Sugar is over the top. If Dpty Fife is understated, Sugar is a peacock in neon lights. She is 50ish, 5'2", 170lbs, and has white blonde hair that has been so processed it practically floats. Sugar wears only bright secondary colors. Pink, green, turquoise blue. Her skin is wrinkled and leathery from too much sun. And I've never seen her in anything but tight pants and low-cut shirts chosen to emphasize her ample bosom. Sugar calls me... you guessed it... "Sugar". I actually adore her. She makes me feel like dancing. Except for today. Today she is fortunate she lives 1000 miles from me.

Sugar is hopelessly behind on her cases and I recently lended her two of my investigators to help lighten her load a bit. Now she seems to think me and my people work for her. She sent me an email that pretty much said, "Here's a case near Investigator Smith, assign it and CC me." What? No please?

In addition to her enormous hair and bosom, it appears Sugar's also got enormous balls.

12 comments:

Larry said...

Promise me that you will never stop blogging :)

Jeff Meyerson said...

"Hey Sugar? Kiss my grits!"

slyeyes said...

Sugar balls?

Polly P.I. said...

I guess she kinda does remind me of Flo, Jeff.

Except she's shorter, older, fatter, and her hair is more Smurfette than bouffant. Other than that, she's a dead ringer, darlin'! ;-)

Jeff Meyerson said...

"Smurfette"! Now everyone has a perfect image of her!

Brat said...

Does sugar know that if she were a guy, she'd be singing soprano by now?

Guess not. You're too kind PPI.

mad scientist said...

but Polly in the south it is pronounced Sugah
Have fun today! Hope I can go on a case with you!
Wheeee!

Polly P.I. said...

Haha. While I'm in San Diego/LA area next week Mad Scientist might accompany me on a case. We'll be sure to blog live from the field.

Polly P.I. said...

P.S. Mad can tell you what she thinks about peeing in a bucket in the back of my rental car. Or should we use your car, Mad?

Higgy said...

Time to tell Sugar that your investigators are busy with YOUR caseload...

Enjoy sunny CA!

Nancy said...

That's one thing I miss about the Real South is that you're always someone's honey or sugar. It makes you always feel welcomed...

Nancy

Jeff Meyerson said...

Wow, Polly & Mad together! Shades of Thelma and Louise!

Get Eleanor and you'll be ready to take down the Governator.