Ass pat

Yesterday I watched this guy drive his car up the wrong side of the street. It reminded me of another time this happened at the same spot.

Last winter I was walking my dog in the morning and a cop came roaring up the wrong side of the street with sirens blaring and I smelled trouble immediately. I was on the rise of the hill and I could see in the direction they were coming that the light had just turned green and the cars were heading down.

I wasn't close enough to wave an alarm to anyone and sure enough the cop hit a car head on. I ran over and the guy who's car had been hit was not hurt and on his phone already. My dog and I rushed over to the drivers side of the cop car and the driver was in shock. She was panting and her partner was bleeding from his neck but mostly okay. So I sat with the driver and stroked her hair until the wall of alarmed cop cars came screeching up to save their fellows soldiers of the street.

When they roared in, jumping out of their cars ready to box whoever did this to their own, when it was thems that did it, I quietly stepped away and left.

But I didn't really leave because the moment I had with that cop was intense and it meant a lot to me. First the intense desire I had to soothe her was powerful and then the shear act of touching a cop in general was tweaking me out for hours after.

Maybe this doesn't translate. Maybe touching a cop seems like no big deal and maybe it isn't but here in NYC my experience has been different. On two different occasions I've seen people approach the po'lice, touching their arms and both cops stepped back and said, "Don't fucking touch me."

As I am a very touchy feely person I was instantly terrified and after these instances, every time I came near a cop I had to repeat, "don't touch the cop, don't touch the cop." Cause what I can't do I want more than anything. And now, desperately I want to pull the stray hair away from the eyes of Ms. Copper. Or give the biceps of Mr. PoPo guy a nice squeeze when I pass, maybe a pat on the ass. And what's worse is my compulsive urge to slide my fingers across their holster..

I'm so scared of myself near cops, when they're around I stay 6 feet away and look in a different direction cause, like dogs, (say it with me) If I don't see them, they're not there.

When police cars cruise by and I'm not paying attention my feet will jerk my ass across the sidewalk and walk me into it's path. I want to reach in and give Mr. Doughnut Eater a squeeze on the cheek. I'm sick and getting sicker over this. If I could meet a cop that I could touch then I would be cured.