More Cops in Victoria!

So, the other night, I'm on one of my midnight jogs.  An hour or so late.  It went fairly well - as usual, I ran to the last half of Abbey Road, and by the time I was done, my lungs were trying to crawl out of my throat so they could take a bath in one of the street puddles.

Completely winded, I sit down on a curb to catch my breath.  My ipod was on, but really quiet - after all, the Selkirk Waterway is not necessarily the safest place in the world after the sun goes down.  After a few minutes, I got to my feet to head over to Tim Horton's for a chocolate milk.  Before I crossed the street, though, an unmarked SUV stops and turns down my sideroad.  I ignored it, and kept walking.  Apparently, that was mistake number one.  And when the window rolled down and a crazy dog started snarling at me from behind,  pretending I didn't hear anything (my iPod's on, see?) was mistake number two. 

After all, look at what I'm seeing - an SUV, at 1 am, trying to get me to stop on a poorly-travelled side street, with a crazy dog snarling at me.  I think I had every excuse to keep walking.

Turns out it was a cop.  She got out of the car, yelling at me to stop, her hand on her gun (I kid you not).  So I did, turn around, and apologize, popping the ear buds out of my iPod.  I Gave her the "Can I help you, officer?" and relaxed body posture that you should always adopt when dealing with people in authority.  Of course, the fact that I was wheezing like an asthmatic in a smoke factory probably didn't help things.  I've dealt with police before, though, and they don't make me nervous (why should they?). 

But this woman ruined my streak.

She anxiously demanded to see what I had in my hands (my keys).  Then she started grilling me about why I'm outside this time of night.  Where I live, my name, why I crossed the road, everything.  And with every question, she got more keyed up, as if she knew I was lying, and is just waiting to catch me.  And her dog was picking up on her posture - a feral beast, obviously from the pits of Hell, doing it's best to burst through the window and help free my lungs from their prison in my body.  Her nature (and the fact that her hand was never more than a foot from her holster) started making me nervous.  I stuttered out my name.  I accidentally said I live on Burnside road, instead of Jutland - and then correct myself, which of course, looks like I'm lying.

When she eventually decided that I was, in fact, telling the truth (or she felt happy that she'd exercised enough of her limited power),  she told me I could head off, and strolled back into her car.  And then drove off to harrass someone else (I forgot to mention - before she headed down my side road, her car had been following a bicyclist slowly... I guess she decided to go after me?)

I made sure I remembered what she looked like, because I'm pretty sure we'll see her face on the news one of these days.  I'd put money that she'll panic and wind up shooting a completely innocent bystander.  Probably a dog-walker, or something.