Why It Matters

Dan from Camelot Music and I sat in a fiberglass booth, dipping french fries into our vanilla shakes and eating plastic hamburgers.  “Frankie Say Nasty,” Dan said, and wadded up his burger.  A cop walked past us on his way out the door.

“Hey, why do you dress like that?” he asked me.

“Because I want to,” I said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Why do you dress like that?” I asked him.

“It’s my uniform.”

“No it isn’t.  It’s who you are.  You’re a cop.”

“So that’s who you are?”

“Yeah.  Is that against the law?”

He shook his head.  “That’s not who you are.”

“How would you know? You just walked past my table.”

“Because I was just like you.  How old are you — 19? 20?”

“Seventeen.”

“Trying to find yourself,” he said, and then he  smiled.

“I know who I am.”

“Trying to find yourself,” he repeated.

“I’m not the one hiding behind a badge and a gun,” I said.

“Okay.  You come see me in 10-15 years.  We’ll see who was searching,” the cop said, and he walked out the door.

Dan and I went back to dipping french fries into our milkshakes.  A cashier ran out and wiped down the policeman’s now empty table.  “Are y’all in a band?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dan said.  “Frankie Goes To Hollywood.  Have you heard of us?”