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Who wants to be a thousandaire? There’s now an alternative to Blue-Collar Lotto (Workman’s Compensation, in case you didn’t know— back injuries are its Big Game). It’s FA (False-Arrest) Bingo, a game I didn’t even know was legal— wasn’t there some law excluding governmental agencies like the police from those kinds of civil suits— until I was talking to a buddy the other day. The cousin of an acquaintance of his, with few assets, intellectual or otherwise, and no visible means of support (such as a job) was sporting spiffy new wheels, as well as other accoutrements of a gentleman. My friend discreetly inquired if he was self-employed in the chemical industry, whereby he first learned of the false-arrest wellspring. It got me thinking. Everyone in a city of any size seems to have a double. Not an identical twin, or anyone even related, but someone who looks and/or dresses close enough to you that when you first set eyes on the person, as I did on mine some years ago, he seems as unnerved discovering you exist as vice versa. Nor might it even be necessary to conspire with that individual. You could get lucky. The scenario would commence thus: A lovely female officer sees you on a corner and thinks, “That’s the guy wanted for jaywalking!” She runs over and informs you that you’re under arrest. Cuffing your wrists snugly behind you, her blond hair brushes lightly against the back of your shoulder, her lathered breath tickling your scruff. As the case proceeds, never forget the happy word that invariably expedites claims of this nature— settlement. Henceforth you’re enabled to enjoy a quiet life, burdened by neither care of need nor millstone of debt. |
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~ Gurf |
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