"Got a Devil's Haircut in My Mind"

"Not only did he scream at me, but he screamed at the top of his voice right in my face. At first I thought he was protesting fur or something, but my goodness, I think he was just insane!" A woman who looked to be 127 years old, but who was probably closer to 50 under her fashionable faux fur and her $250 Italian heels that were probably giving her hammer toe and her "I drive a fancy car and live in Bellevue" look, was swearing out a report to the police. As if they cared.

"I never come downtown to Westlake anymore because of this -" she paused dramatically and sneered down her perfectly molded nose - "riffraff. They drive all us good people to Bellevue Square. Why, if we weren't just bored with the malls out there -"

Detective Alvarez cut her off. "What does this man look like?" he asked in the bored voice of a man who knew the answer to his question and who didn't in the slightest, but was obliged to ask anyway.

"Oh, he was a sight. He was riding a skateboard, had tattoos all up and down his arms and ripped jeans and combat boots like my late husband Arthur god rest his soul wore in World War II, you know he was fighting in a war when he was this boy's age -"

Officer Alvarez cut the lady off again. "Did he do anything to you? Assault you in any way? Take anything of yours? Commit any crime?"

The rich bitch looked confused for a minute. "Well, he did scream something at me. Does that count?"

Alvarez replied professionally, "only if he threatened harm. Otherwise I can't do anything. What did he scream?"

It was crazy. It was insane. I had no idea what he meant. He screamed ‘I've got a devil's haircut in my mind' over and over again. What does that mean? Is he possessed by the devil? I he trying to sound dangerous or something?"

The officer did all he could to stop himself from laughing. "The man was just quoting a popular song." a chuckle started spreading over his lips. "He was just having some fun at your expense." Alvarez couldn't swallow a big giggle.

"Well, I never," snarled the suburbanite. "I'll never come in to Seattle again if this is how I'll be treated. Good bye." With a turn of her brightly shined, extremely uncomfortable shoes, the rich lady was off to retrieve her car, obviously from some valet parking lot near the Nordstrom's.

Alvarez managed to blurt out "that is Seattle's loss, I guess" before the giggles overtook him. God I love this job, he thought, humming ‘she's alone in the new pollution.' It was just another day on the beat.

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