Friday, September 17, 2010

One Day in The Life

I've been away from the blog too long.
That's both a good thing and a bad thing.
It's good because I am busy investigating cases... which means I am out helping people and making money. 
It's bad because the blog has remained static.

I've decided I need a wealthy benefactor, a lottery win or at the very least, a best selling book.
I'm going for the last two.
So I bought three Lotto tickets today, along with my Hi Rev Coffee at the corner gas station before hitting the road.
In all, this day took me 177 miles round trip.
I made it through two accident investigations and took pictures of a decimated car, and some gnarly  injuries.
I followed one person around during lunch to see who he was with when he wasn't at the job his girlfriend found out he lost months ago.
I was surprised to see an accident happen when someone ran a stop sign. There were plenty of witnesses present, I handed the police officer my card and exited that scene.
I called 911 when I saw two men fighting outside an apartment complex where kids were playing.
One appeared to have a pipe of some kind.
I  stayed in my car, grabbed my binoculars, waited and watched until the police came and I drove away.
My last job of the day was delivery of a subpoena.
I wanted to get this last task done early and fast because the car ferry lines home on Fridays can take forever.

So I ran into the supermarket, got a bunch of cheap flowers, knocked on the door and asked the woman who answered for my subject by name... even though I knew it was her, I'd seen her picture.
She said, "That's me!" excitedly,  "who would send me flowers?"
She had a great big smile and I got a huge rush as I handed her the flowers and a set of folded papers.
"An attorney, " I  said, attempting to look serious even though it was hard to contain my joy at this last task being done. "You've been served."
Normally I linger a little, savor the aftershock.
This time, I turned on my heels with the image of her mouth hanging open, the papers and flowers in her hand, as I sprinted for my car in one heavy-duty Seattle downpour.
The ferry line wait was a full two hours.
I alternated between phone calls, organizing case files, cleaning out my car and listening to radio commentators discuss the Vacouver woman who threw acid in her own face and blamed a black woman. She faked the whole thing.
And here I sit.
Friday night, the P.I. is finally home, everyone's sleeping but me. Dogs snore louder than people sometimes.
I have an early boat out tomorrow, so I will close for now, while I prep for a Saturday case that couldn't wait until Monday.
This is one day in the life of just one P.I.
Always different. Ever challenging. Endlessly intriguing.
And ultimately, exhausting.

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