The scene of the crime
I went to my first Walmart. It was everything I expected: a consumerist's wet dream with enough useless crap and food to fill your pickup truck and stuff your ever-expanding gourd. I managed to escape with a pack of beef jerky (Oh Oh Oberto!) and Gold's Gym resistance bands (???). Where am I?
It was what it was.
Zandy thought the line of shopping carts outside the Walmart Super Center looked interesting under the neon lights in the darkness, so he pulled out his tripod and starting taking pics. Unbeknownst to me, he was approached by a female officer. Apparently, somebody saw him, got suspicious or weary and called the cops. Yes, Zandy does cut a very shady figure in the Iowa landscape and we are, after all, under a code orange in the terrorist alert. She was nice enough about it but asked for his ID two seconds into the conversation, and ran it through the system. I was in the dark, just sitting in the car eating my beef jerky. Everything was fine, she left, he finished up his pics and came back to the car.
We drove to the Walmart gas station a few meters away. The officer who was driving off, slowly reversed and drove up to us at the gas station. Kinda laughing, she says, "We got a problem here." Apparently, the rental car is not registered even though there's a sticker on the plate! So she starts asking for papers and this n that and lo and behold, another officer in his own cruiser drives up. Back up baby! They don't know who they're dealing with here!!! I am wielding a wet squeegee at this point. Tres dangereuse. The new guy, a blonde terminator, with gloves, asks me for ID. Blahblahblah. It goes on... Questions: where you from? where do you live? where are you going? where did you come from? blahblahblah... Quiet night, I guess. Well, they let us off - no citations, thank you very much and nobody was taken in. They were just doing their job, I suppose. Seemed a little extreme and what was up with the gloves? It was so warm out?
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