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Thursday, March 31, 2016
A day off
The sounds of Beatlesque screaming girls drove me out of my apartment. They were cheering at whatever a man on a bullhorn was saying. I needed to know. I put on my shoes without socks and began walking briskly. A beautiful day. On the way, I passed three cop cars and three male cops surrounding a smaller woman in a very broken-down looking maroon car. A fit woman in exercise attire stood with a dog on a leash nearby and watched the cops and the girl; she seemed to have a worried expression on her face. I kept going towards screaming (it was dying down, but the bullhorn voice wasn't.) I got to the high school. I saw a few teenage girls milling about. The ceremony was hidden behind the buildings. From what I could understand, a voice had been awarding medals to girls and was now awarding medals to boys for track/field events. It was a sports ceremony. I turned around. Mystery solved. I once again passed the girl (or woman), now sitting on the curb with a most miserable look on her face, and the cop cars. One car was still blocking the street but the officer moved it. They were pulling blankets and pillows out of the maroon car. The blankets were a cranberry color. I didn't stop. The officers were watching the passersby, too. I kept going. The Beatlesque Girl Screaming was coming back. The Male Bullhorn Voice. Maybe the ceremony was winding down to a glorious finish. Maybe the girls cheered harder for other girls. Maybe there weren't as many boys at the ceremony. Maybe the cops were searching the maroon car for drugs. Of course there is no rule, if you are a woman, that the cops who search your car will be of your gender...
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