Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains: Macroinformation.org &
Knatz.com / Teaching / Society / Social Order / HierCon / Cops /
Mid-thirties. I’m running FLEX from my apartment on Riverside Drive at 103rd Street. Angus and I are coming up out of the park after a run. I see some turd jimmying the butterfly window of a VW Beetle on the park side of the drive. I walk casually to a pay phone, making sure Angus follows. I dial 911. 911 is relatively new. It’s my first such call.
“There’s a guy breaking into a VW Beetle on Riverside & 103rd.”
“A burglar. He’s using a switchblade to jimmy the window open. He’s hasn’t gotten in yet. Riverside Drive and 103rd.”
I’d picked up a little Spanish interviewing Cubans for the Army during the Cuban missile crisis. But I hadn’t a clue what this woman was saying.
It seemed mutual on her side. She hung up on me.
I wouldn’t have cared if her native tongue had been Martian. I was all for creating “jobs” for the universally incompetent. But not in public service. She should have understood English: certainly the English of a college English teacher whose voice coeds swooned for.