My office is in downtown. A walk to the library is bound to encounter some sights. There’s enough activity, that it generally doesn’t catch an eye anymore. As I walked past a restaurant I saw medical emergency services and thought nothing of it.
After I’d navigated my way to the library where I DID in fact judge a book by it’s cover, I started back up the hill near that restaurant known for not judging morning consumption of distilled spirits.
Now the cops were there and the situation definitely had my attention.
More than once I’ve felt compelled to apologize to police officers I’ve stared at as they’ve driven by. If they’re in the right color car and it’s time when mommy’s little law enforcer is on shift, Imma leer with my poor vision into their car for the entire distance that I can to see if it’s young Dirty.
Curious to see if the boy was there, I carried on my merry way.
3 cop cars were parked around the truck that I’d noted earlier with the ambulances by it. As I neared, I saw that one officer was a young woman whose family comprises some of my very favorite people in the entire world. She began to chat and as I got closer, I could see the man who appeared absolutely trashed in the driver’s seat of the vehicle. Not that alcoholism keeps a time clock, but it’s worth noting that it wasn’t noon yet.
The male officer at the window of the vehicle stepped back from the vehicle window and turned to look at me. “Are you Hazel?” The man in the driver’s seat’s head swayed as he looked like he was trying to focus in on me. He then stared intently at me.
“This is Adams’ mom,” stated the other cop.
“Oh this man said you’re his wife, Hazel, here to drive him home.”
“I’m not. I’m really not.”
Never did the driver’s seat man let on that perhaps he’d made a mistake and that indeed I wasn’t his wife. To him, I was Hazel. The end.
Next, the man cop asked me why I’m walking in downtown and stated that I shouldn’t have to walk to the library when I’ve got a perfectly good son who can give me a ride. He talked into his little radio and called out to my young’n saying there was a citizen at the scene who needed a ride and advised him to come assist.
I could hear Dirty said something cop-y back to the man. He replied that the citizen needing a ride was “Same last name. First name spelling Mary-Ocean-Mary.” A lengthy pause. then I heard my certainly confused son flatly advise he’d call the cop.
Young Dirty would prefer to think that I don’t exist in his professional world. I tell him that I’m cool or funny or that typically people aren’t embarrassed at my existence. He doesn’t believe me and I seem to periodically do things to reinforce his repulsion at any cross point our worlds may have. For example, he REALLY didn’t think it was funny when I made a fat head of him to take to his swearing in ceremony at the Sheriff’s office when he started at the jail. ‘Twas 3 years ago, and he’s still mad about it. (wince).
Since that time, I’ve tried hard to maintain a balance of “excited mom” and “give him his space.” So when drunk man’s cop was pranking Dirty I immediately texted him this was a joke that this time was unsolicited on my part.
The depth of his separation efforts go so far as to he doesn’t tell me the names of his new cop friends. As it turns out, the officer in this story is in fact “the guy whose boat we go out on.” Not to be confused with “the guy who wants someone to run with him while he trains for a marathon.” Sure, these are far longer statements than, say,…NAMES; but I get it. He doesn’t need my gregarious self trying to crash in to his ecosystem.
I chuckled at the events in the parking lot, and continued on my walk. Only to then overthink. Do I pass for a person who has to go rescue an inebriated elderly man on a Thursday morning?! What does Hazel look like?! Is Hazel okay? Does this happen often? Does he need help? Has she had enough? Do I need to up my skin care game?! I asked follow-up questions of the family friend officer. Apparently Hazel didn’t look like a miscreant. Whew! But I bought new moisturizer just in case.
I’m thankful for cops and for whomever called them before the man got on the road. I wish the best for the person I fakely named Hazel (her real name was just as glorious though) and her partner. And, hopefully I’ll get better about trying to crash Dirty’s adulthood. Time will tell…
Thanks for reading!
Bifocals and Barbells 