Stoolies

It's funny when a bunch of random things dovetail.

PART ONE
The Wife will probably mention this on her blog, so I'll summarize. Yesterday, she witnessed a car accident outside our house. Two guys in a truck sideswiped a car. Took the side view mirror right off. Apparently these guys parked their truck and buggered off into this house across the street and didn't reemerge. It was obvious something was fishy. I mean, even you hit your own car, wouldn't you be out there inspecting the damage? So E, who was with our landlady at the time, decided to call the cops. They showed and went into the house in question (apparently, not the first time they've visited) and took the driver out in handcuffs and double-checked with my wife to make sure he was the driver.

PART TWO
An important plot point of Glengarry Glen Ross (see previous entry) is the break-in of the salesmen's offices, about which each of them gets questioned by a cop.

PART THREE
I got an email this morning from a mucky-muck in the administration that oversees the Fight Club. I'm not sure if I should write about this, but they didn't explicitly say not to discuss this with anyone. Eh, screw it, I'm not in trouble (at least, according to the mucky-muck). Apparently, since I'm listed on paper as a "coach," they contacted me about setting up an appointment to come in and talk about "some issues" and my observations about "Club officers." They must've emailed DATU_B, too, but I'm not sure if he's read it or if he's going to anytime soon, as he's going to be out of town for the next couple of days on Glengarry type business. Anyway, I offered a time later this afternoon and am waiting to hear back.

PART FOUR
Actually, I don't want to go in. I'm not a stoolie by nature and normally, I'm all for sticking it to The Man. But, hey, I can't think of anything I might've done to be suspect about anything and I definitely don't have anything to gain by lying to The Man in this instance. If I did do anything, it was unintentional - so unintentional, I can't even think of what it might be. So, while it's an inconvenience, I suppose I'm better off keeping it as small an inconvenience for me as possible.

It reminds me of Al Pacino's line to Kevin Spacey just before he goes in to talk to the cop.

I'll tell you something else, I hope you ripped the joint off. I can tell our friend here something might help him to catch you.

Because I've always told people "If you ever do anything illegal with me or in front of me, and I get pulled in for questioning, you might as well meet us at the police station." Or perhaps in this case, some Director's office.