The Hot-cop

Articles

Chris Falcon

The Hot-cop
Sept 3, 2003

"So tell me how to find your column," the Hot-cop says to me."I want to see your handiwork, see what you write about...."

"Uh. Ummmm. No," The words tumble out of me poorly and I have a sudden vacant look. Even I don't know why I am suddenly not my relaxed, confident self.

The Hot-cop swivels in his chair to get a pencil and paper to write down the Useless-Knowledge Web Site. He peeks at me with very blue eyes as he is feeling around in his desk.

"Um, I don't know if I can give you the name of the Web Site," My brain is suddenly not working so well and the words kind-of dribble down the side of my mouth, to my embarassment.

Instead of a steady flow of what to say, I am suddenly only aware of how his smile warms me.

"Why not?" he says concerned, confused.

"Um...I just ...well...my columns can be very personal and...I don't know if I can be that vulnerable with you."

At this point I want to die from the stupidity of my answer.

The Hot-cop looks dissapointed and at a loss for words himself for a moment. It looks as if he is studying me.

I look at him.

He looks back.

I guess, it suddenly makes me think of him, not just as a detective, but as a man.

I don't know why.I don't even know if he's married, so it's not like that. And he may think of me as Ernest Borgnine and he is just asking to read the column to be kind to the homely.

Regardless, I feel embarassed that someone I talk business with week after week, will suddenly know from my column that I have just been stood up by a man I like....that my house burned down ...that I own nothing at all now not even a sad little chair, never mind a home....nothing...He will know about the Compassion-less editor and what I think about in a day......everything.

Who knows, maybe it is just insecurity that makes me hesitate to give him the Web Site...maybe it's just a residual affect of the Boston-flirt cancelling our date on Saturday and putting our relationship on hold.

Suddenly I am noticing men. Even if it's a man asking an innocent enough question as hey, what's the name of the Web Site for your column.

"Okay. Well, give me your phone number then," the Hot-cop says to me. "You think about it and I will call you tomorrow." p> Only the stupidest thing to say in the world occurs to me and I say actually say it to him, "Oh. Um. No. Um. No. Don't call me. I will call you."

I am not kidding you, I actually said that.

After saying it, he stares at me incredulous and silent.

Then he says, "You will?" and he stays poised with an inquisitive look.

So what do I do?

I bolt.

Yup. I silently leave with a vague smile.

Of course I don't call him the next day. I thought about it, but was too embarassed and didn't know what to say.

So guess what?

He called me.

I do want to tell you more. But I am at work in the newsroom and really need to get going. I will tell you more tomorrow.

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About the author: Chrissa Falcon is a newspaper reporter in the New York Metropolitan Area. Chrissa may be reached at ChrisFalconColumn@hotmail.com

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