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Oct 20, 2003 "Irene, I can’t stand it," I say. "I need your take on what the Hot-cop is like. Call my answering machine and listen to my messages from him, would ya? I need a second opinion." "Why?" she asks me. "Because he read my column about him and he hated it!" It's Sunday night now, and I am in the newsroom late. Everyone, else has left. It’s just me and a pile of news-papers, an iced tea, popcorn, music, and a half done story on the mayor. I’ve been doing a lot of cop stories lately and for that, every week, I go to a detective’s office....to find out about the week's crime etc... but my mind wanders while I am there. We have become good friends over the days, weeks, months. Good business friends, that is. And I just recently found out he is available. But it has me wondering at what point is business friendship a real friendship, ya know? For me, the question is....when is it not just getting as close as possible to a needed source. For him, when is it not just buttering up a reporter. "How do you know he hated your column?" Irene asks me. "Well, I don’t. I read it to him while we were on the phone yesterday and he had a strange reaction. I don't know what to make of it. Definately not good, that's for sure...he said, ‘stop reading’ when I was only about two paragraphs into it." "Why?" "That ‘s just it. I don’t know. He'd been asking me for weeks to read it to him, but I said no, no, no because it would be too embarassing to me...it contains my initial thoughts...what I wonder about him...and it necessarily changes things if he knows what is going through my mind, ya know?... It makes things less natural. But he was insulted at my saying it would be embarassing to me to read it....he said that meant I didn't trust him or whatever ..that he'd never think it was anything but great..so when he stopped me from reading on....I didn't know what to think. Man was it THAT bad?Was he mad? Hurt? Embarrassed over bad writing? Mad I called him the Hot-cop? Feeling sorry for me? Did he suddenly realize I like him and maybe he never liked me, all along? Did I reveal a crush to him and it’s uncomfortable for him? I don’t’ know! Help me out here. I'm dying from embarassment about his being embarassed." "Well, read it to me," Irene says to me, gently, trying to squelch her laughter. So I read Irene the first couple of paragraphs of the first Hot-cop column I wrote about a month ago, which I just read to him last night...and now Irene can’t stop laughing. "What? What?" I plead. "Chris, he’s a detective, first of all. High rank. He doesn’t want to be called a cop. My Dad was a cop, I know." "You think he cares about that? I picked a bad name for him? Hey, I asked him what name he’d like and he only laughed and only laughed and said I could write about him as ‘the Pet- detective’. Listen, Irene, you gotta call my answering machine. I’ll tell you the number and the pass code and you listen to his messages to me and ana-lyze it for me, will ya? Tell me your take on him based on his hating my column and the messages he leaves me, okay?" Fifteen minutes later, my phone rings. I hear nothing but Irene’s raucous laughter on the other line. Laughter, laughter, laughter. "Okay, Irene, are you done laughing now?" I say, laughing too. "Chris, it’s like he's saying this," and here Irene fakes a deep voice like the Hot-cops and says, "Chris, call me. Chris, call me. Chris call me. Call me. CALL me." More laughter. Then Irene says: "Then, the phone call where he is just making chicken noises. I mean, come on. His messages are funny." "Yeah, see? Funny. As in joking with a friend. A buddy. He even calls me his ‘blotter buddy’, did you hear that message? I write the police blotter and he is referring to me as a work buddy." "Chris, he is flirting with you. I am telling you, this man is VERY interested. He’s trying desperately to get your attention. He may not think of you as a girlfriend. You work with him, okay. I used to have vendors where I worked. Some I dreaded seeing and some I liked a lot and I’d have coffee ready for them. Right now, you’re like his favorite outside vendor. But he is trying to get your attention. Actually, it’s like he’s on the hunt," she says laughing again. "I have men friends. But they don’t act like that on the phone and they don’t call me all day long urging me to call them. Hot-cop is interested. See where it goes." Irene has an incoming call and hangs up, leaving me in the newsroom alone. Feeling kind-of loser- ish, as I have no where to go tonight. The phone is ringing for me too now. One moment, please, while I answer the phone.... Actually, before I answer, I better stop writing. I’m in the newsroom and it’s getting late. I will tell you tomorrow who is calling me on the phone right now. Oh, you know what? If you have an idea of what the Hot-cop is thinking or what I should do, let me know. Click on my e-mail address below and tell me! ------------ About the author: Chrissa Falcon is a newspaper reporter in the New York Metropolitan Area. Chrissa may be reached at ChrisFalconColumn@hotmail.com Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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