Page 6 of Resting Grump Face
“I did not decide that was a good idea?—”
“Aha! So the drugs made you do it.”
“There were no drugs involved at any stage of,” I attempt to gesture with my hands but strain against the cuffs immediately, “this.”
“Yeah,” he huffs, obviously not believing me. “So what isthisthen?”
I look down at myself. “Someone stole my pants.”
“Someone stole your pants.”
“Someone stole my pants in the bathroom.”
And I am going to make her fucking pay for it.
Disdain. I don’t know how any sort of admiration could have even crossed my mind. Attraction, sure. There’s nothing one can do about feeling attraction for someone like her, but Iam way past that. The admiration left along with my pants. All that’s left now is disdain. And cold thighs.
“Huh.” The cop sits down in the chair opposite of mine, his belly pressing into the edge of the table. “I’ve heard of weirdos who take off their pants all the way when going to the bathroom, but I’ve never met one myself. Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
“Well, that’s not really what happened,” I say before I can stop myself.
“No? Then what did happen?”
Yeah, I should have gone with weirdo who strips before peeing.
“Well, I was in the bathroom…”
And a raccoon came and took them.
And I accidentally flushed them down the toilet.
And I was reckless enough to have sex with a stalking reporter who seduced me with her perfectly imperfect curls, her adorable little nose, that gaze of hers that could kill… and who then had the gall to steal my fucking pants.
“…doing drugs. You were in the bathroom doing drugs.”
I sigh and let my head drop onto the table. This is threatening to become a long night. And it will be a really long week once she writes her story about all of this. I can already see the headline:
CEO Of Grayson Holdings Caught With His Pants Down
Fuck. Bruce will not like this. The board even less so.
“I wasn’t doing drugs. I also wasn’t exposing myself in public. I was wearing a shirt, my suit jacket, this tie, even shoes, and, of course, underwear. That’s more than I’d be wearing at the beach. It can’t possibly qualify as indecent exposure in public. I didn’t break any laws.”
“Weeeell, those boxers are pretty tight, buddy.” The cop places his arms on his belly, getting a little too comfortable for my taste. “Besides, that’s for me to judge.”
“No. It isn’t,” I object, because apparently, I am too dumb to just shut the fuck up. “There are laws, and rules, and ordinances that define things like this, and, if anything, it is for a judge to… you know…judge.”
“Weeeell, there’s different rules here. We’re at the airport on extra-judicial grounds, so…”
“Extra-judicial gr—” My pulse is beating furiously against the tight cuffs as I try to control my temper. “I guess you are right.”Because apparently you can do whatever you want here. And if that isn’t extra-judicial, then I don’t know what is.“How about this: how about you reach into this pocket here,” I lean forward, allowing him access to the inner lining of my jacket, “and you look for a business card in there that says Bruce Grayson. Then you look up who that is and you give him a call. Of course, I probably don’t need to mention this, but other than my ID and that business card, my wallet is absolutely empty, as far as I’m concerned.”
I am bribing a police officer now. Might as well hire a hitman to find that reporter after what she is putting me through here. But anything to not miss the wedding.
Carefully, Officer Jabali, as it states on his name tag, reaches into my pocket, pulls out my wallet and opens it up. His eyes grow bigger and bigger when they discover the bills inside. “Well, well, well,” he says and quickly stuffs the stack of money into his pants while glancing over at the mirror in the wall, “I guess we can add attempted bribery of an officer to your charges.”
“I guess we could,” I agree with a fake smile. “Or we could make that phone call and see if my brother has pockets even deeper than this.”
The cop stares at me for longer than is comfortable, I assume mentally running —or rather leisurely strolling— through his options, before getting up and almost tripping over himself in the process. “Wait here,” he says and turns towards the door.
