I ventured out of my cubbyhole yesterday and went downtown to see the President. I should’ve known better than to take my camera with me, because whenever we go somewhere together, he always wants to stop and take pictures.
Say, has anyone seen the holiday message in the Fluevog storefront between 2nd and 3rd on Pine?
Warms the cockles of your artificial heart, doesn’t it?
Rent-a-cop: [to Balaclava] Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to remove the mask.
Me: It’s ok. He’s with me.
Rent-a-cop: Take off the mask and you can stay.
Rent-a-cop: Hey! You can’t take my picture!
Me: Just did.
Rent-a-cop: Don’t take my picture again.
Me: This is a public place. I can take a picture of anything I want to.
Rent-a-cop: [Points to invisible line in the middle of the sidewalk] No. This is property of Westlake Mall. That’s public property out there. [Indicates sidewalk close to the street] On this side of the line, you have to do what I say.
Me: What if I step across that line and then take your picture?
Rent-a-cop: In that case, you still can’t take my picture, because you do not have my CONSENT to take my picture.
Me: Look, I don’t NEED your consent to take your picture. But since you put it that way, I will respect your request and not take your picture. Or rather, my camera won’t. [Addressing camera] Did you hear that? Don’t take this man’s picture again.
Rent-a-cop: [Shaking head in disgust. Walks away.]