Not Jaywalking...

Okay, this is too good not to publish. 

Tonight, post show, we all decided to head over to the one and only bar in this one horse town that is still open, which also happens to be directly across the street from the theatre, and kiddy-corner to our hotel.  There is a traffic light at the intersection, but at this time of night, cars are few and far between.  Now, we're in small town southern USA, on a Tuesday night, so there isn't much else going on in town.  Bar rail shots are dirt cheap and bottles are cheaper...the cast and crew are having a good time, blowing off some steam after a tough travel day and our first double show day in a while.  I have a few, and as the responsible adult, who still has show reports to write, I decided to call it a night well before the stroke of midnight.  I literally walk out the front door of the bar, turn towards the hotel (which, remember, is kiddycorner), check that the road is not only clear but in fact deserted,  and start to cut across the intersection, on the most direct path to the hotel.  No sooner had I made it three steps out into the intersection than a car became visible headed towards me, so, judging the distance to be too close for comfort, I hopped back up onto the sidewalk, continuing to cross the street with the light, in the accepted manner.  Besides, if television has taught me anything, it is that some areas of the states take Jaywalking very seriously.

Ofcourse, the car turns out to be a local police cruiser that slows down and pulls to the side of the road just through the intersection.  There is no crosswalk signs at this particular intersection, so I wait for the light to change, giving me the right of way.  As it does the young female officer steps from the car and calls me over.  One hand in her flashlight, one hand on her holstered sidearm.  She immediately asks for my ID, and wants to know where I'm coming from.  I very honestly tell her that I'm coming from "the bar" (the angle is now wrong for me to read the sign at this time of night, and I don't know what the hell it is called, I have only been in been here in town for exactly 1 day, all of which I spent in the theatre, but I keep that fact to myself for now).  Not impressed that I don't know where I've come from, or at least the name of the establishment, she has me put my hands on the car while she radio's HQ to see if they have the technology required to run my ID.  She literally asks if they can run Canadian ID...While she converses with HQ, I stand with my hands on the cruiser, trying desperately not to die laughing at this whole situation.

Finished with HQ, She wants to know where I was headed.  I explain that I am staying at the hotel, which is now literally steps away.  She wants to know how much I've had to drink.  I tell her the truth.  She doubts me, this in fact seems to confirm her suspicions.  She starts to tell me that she saw me weaving into the street, obviously jumping to the conclusion that I am impaired so I very politely interrupt her to explain that I was in the middle of choosing to Jaywalk across the street when I saw a car, and thought better of it. I am calm, coherent and far from inebriated, and she is slowing starting to catch on...but she has already called in my ID, so we're stuck here...

So I'm still standing with my hands on the back quarter panel of her cruiser, basically in the middle of the intersection, and I ask if I could stand on the sidewalk, out of the street.  She grudgingly agrees, which seems to ratchet the tension down a few notches.  Now we're getting chatty.  She wants to know if I am here with anyone, I explain that I am with the tour, and that most of the group are still at the bar.  She wants to know how long we're in town, and how the show sold.  Suddenly it becomes very apparent that she knows that she has no reason to detain me, so she's just making conversation to pass time while she waits for HQ to run my ID, and confirm what I have told her, that I am not in fact a fugitive from justice.  It has now been at least 15 minutes, and I am almost surprised that no one from the cast has come out of the bar to discover my predicament.  She just keeps making light banter.  Some people might even suggest that she was flirting with me at this point, but I am not even going to speculate on that.  I just kept up my polite, honest, mildly bemused Canadian routine, and eventually once her dispatcher confirmed my ID, she handed me back my license and jokingly drawled "I bet you hate this small town now".  After telling me I was free to continue on my travels, she then told me that while it was good that I decided not to Jaywalk, but it was my "disorderly travels" that caught her attention.  I apologized (I'm Canadian, it is what we do) for having wasted her time with such an insignificant incident, and before she hopped back into her cruiser, she admitted that it was the most excitement she had had all night. 

I laughed the whole way back to my room.

Only in America.