Mysterical-E

He Said, She Says

Schmooze Me, Baby
by Bill Bernico

“Come on, Ed,” Dave said. “This new captain’s gonna rip us a new one if we’re late his first day on the job.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening combing my hair and zipping my jacket. “You know how I can schmooze just about anyone. This guy’ll be no different than the others. Five bucks says within a week I’ll have him eatin’ outta my hand.”

Dave looked sideways at me and raised his eyebrows. “You? A schmoozer? Since when? That big mouth of your has gotten us both into more trouble than any other two officers on the force. Me, I wanna keep my stripes so if you’re planning on schmoozing anyone, leave me out of it.”

I closed the door behind me and hopped in my old car with Ed next to me. It wasn’t much, but it got me to work, where I could drive a current model cruiser with all the toys a good police officer should have.

Dave and I had been partners for seven years under Captain Johnson, before his retirement and now a new captain was taking over. I didn’t like it. It had taken me three years to get Captain Johnson to the point where I could handle him my way. And now a change—a major change—and I didn’t like it.

“Suppose this new captain is one of those by-the-book kinda guys,” Dave said, sipping his coffee. “Suppose you can’t come and go as you like or smart off to him or…”

“I get the picture,” I said. “Gimme a little time and this new guy, whoever he is, will be just so much putty in my hands.”

“Yeah, but we don’t know anything about him,” Dave said. “His name, where he’s from, what he’s like, how strict he might be, nothin’. And by the way, why is this thing so damned secretive anyway? Why can’t they let the ranks know who Johnson’s replacement is?”

“Don’t worry, Dave. When I’m through with him, we’ll be back on easy street, see? You want a doughnut?”

“We don’t have time for a doughnut,” Dave said.

“It’ll only take a minute,” I said and pulled into the mini mart. I parked in front of the building and entered through the double swinging doors. I selected four of the fattest, sweetest doughnuts on the shelf and paid for them at the counter.

“See ya, Donna,” I said to the lady behind the counter.    I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, still looking over my shoulder. As I was going out, someone else was coming in and we bumped chests.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man said to me.

He was a black man, maybe forty-five, with smooth, bald head and big, hairy eyebrows. He stood two or three inches taller than me and had maybe thirty pounds on me. Size never mattered to me, since I’d been trained to handle large guys before. I stood my ground.

“What’d you say, boy?”

The man looked me over, head to toe, the way a lion eyes a zebra, stepped back and stared me in the eye. “Boy?” He said indignantly. “Did you say boy?”

I stepped up and stood nose to nose with him. “That’s right, Toby. Now step aside, I’m late as it is and I don’t have time to do no shufflin’ with y’all.”

The big hairy eyebrows raised as high as they would go. “Toby?”

“Whassa matta, didn’t you see Roots?”

“Why you insolent little nobody,” the man said. “Just who do you think you are?” He laid his open palm on my chest and pushed me back into the mini mart.

I braced myself and we stopped midway through the door. “Get your black hands off me, you, you…”

“You what?”

I looked out the door at Dave who was waving to me and pointing to his wristwatch. I looked back at the black man. “You’re lucky I don’t have time for this, Rastus. Just don’t get in my way again.” I pushed past him and hopped in my car.

I could hear him mumbling to the clerk something along the lines of, “of all the nerve.”

“What’s going on?” Dave said, still tapping the face of his wristwatch.

“Nothin’,” I said. Just some spear-chucker givin’ me grief.”

“I saw you arguing,” Dave said. “One of these days that big mouth of yours is gonna get us both killed. Suppose he’d had a couple of the brothers with him? Then what?”

“How do you know he even has a brother?” I said.

“Not his brothers,” Dave said.   The brothers. That’s the way they talk, as if they were all related.”

“They don’t scare me,” I said. “Ya shoot ‘em, they’ll bleed, just like everyone else. Here, have a doughnut.”

We made it to the station house with fifteen minutes to spare and headed downstairs to the locker room to change into our uniforms. I straightened my tie and positioned my visored hat on my head with a confident tilt to the right. Dave and I climbed back up the stairs to the squad room and took our seats, ready for roll call and assignments.

The other officers took their seats and talked among themselves. The undertone in the conversations lasted just a minute or so until Lieutenant O’Connor took the podium and cleared his throat. “Come on,” he said, “let’s settle down and get down to business.” He looked down at the roster sheet and up at the attendees and back down at the roster sheet, comparing the names with the people present. “All right. It looks like everyone’s here so let’s take care of first things first.”

He called off the day’s teams and assigned them their beats. Dave and I had the downtown patrol again. Lieutenant O’Connor closed the roster book and looked back up at us.

“Here it comes,” Dave said. “I’ll bet he’s gonna introduce the new captain.”

I swiped my hand flat away from my body and said, “Schmoose. That’s all it’ll take is just a professional schmoose job. You just watch and learn from the master.”

“Men,” the lieutenant began, “as you know Captain Johnson by now is somewhere up in Idaho teaching the locals how to fish. It’s my pleasure to introduce to you your new captain. Let’s give him your support and make him feel welcomed here at the two-nine. Men, may I present Captain Washington.”

Lieutenant O’Connor held his arm out, palm up, toward the squad room door. The door opened and a tall man wearing a dress regulation blue uniform with the shiny captain’s bars on the shoulders walked in and took his place behind the podium. He was a black man and when he took off his hat, his smooth, bald head shone in the overhead light. He had big, bushy eyebrows and he looked the room over the way a lion looks over a zebra herd. His eyes stopped on me momentarily before moving on.

“Men,” he began, “I’ll be replacing Captain Johnson. My name is James Washington. It is not boy, Toby or Rastus.” His eyes were riveted on me as he spoke.   I’m sure we’ll get along just fine as long as we show each other the respect we deserve. If any of you have questions or problems, I want you to know that my office door is open to you all. That’s all. Dismissed.”

The men all rose from their chairs and milled around for a moment. I was eager to get out of that room and into the patrol car. Dave looked at me sideways and said, “you gonna schmoose him now, Ed?”

“Don’t be a wise ass, Dave. Come on, let’s get outta here.” I almost made the door when I heard my name called.

“Officer Davis,” a loud booming voice from behind me said. “My office. NOW!”

“See ya, Ed.” Dave said, heading for the door as fast as he could.

BIO:

Bill Bernico is the author of more than 150 short stories and one novel. For four years he wrote a weekly humor column for his hometown newspaper, The Sheboygan Press. Bill's advice columns for computer enthusiasts have appeared in various magazines around the world. These days Bill writes an online advice column for musicians. Bill is a songwriter and has won several songwriting contests. He is also a working musician and has been playing live shows since 1966.