A Stranger in Our Midst

When I pulled up to Starbucks a bit later than usual this morning, I was a little surprised to see a police car parked in my usual spot. I wondered if maybe the Dunkin Donuts was closed.

The cop was still sitting in the driver's seat, looking very serious as he tapped away on his government issue computer. Nowhere near as cute as the fire chief, whose red SUV had no doubt already come and gone. Damn, I hate when I oversleep.

I quickly forgot about the very serious but forgettable looking cop and went in to collect my morning brew and claim my spot on the couch. It was only after I settled in to scroll through a slide show of Michelle Obama's fashions (including the baseball cap and dark glasses she wore when she took the First Dog to Petco) that my favorite barista (who had had the nerve to be on break when I arrived) rushed over to tell me how our world had been shattered. Apparently, only an hour earlier, one of the regulars from my usual shift had his briefcase snatched right from his hands. Right here in my Starbucks. Right when I'm usually here, my wallet strewn carelessly on the table in front of me, my phone similarly unguarded.

Talk about feeling violated. I glanced over at the growing line, so many unsuspecting souls, oblivious to the sudden surge in the crime rate in our little town. I hugged my laptop a little closer, sat on my wallet, and tucked my phone in my sports bra (no pockets today). Where's the fire chief when I need him? (Yes, I know there's no fire, and the whole crime thing is outside his jurisdiction, but a) the cop looked too out of shape to chase a dastardly thief, and b) if I had to choose a lap to hop into for comfort, well, no contest.)

Hopefully this was just an isolated incident. I have to believe that; otherwise, all my assumptions about life here in Mayberry might as well have been in that briefcase. Back to the Michelle Obama slideshow, and to wondering how the hell she goes on a shopping spree at the local Petco, surrounded by secret service agents, and nobody, NOBODY, recognizes her.

I suppose you can get away with stuff when nobody expects you to be there.