I was on my way for my weekly session with my shrink, the pulchritudinous but never pompous Doc Kronkite. My buddy Dortmunder, the chimp with the 197 IQ who spoke in a clipped British accent was with me.
I hoped that this meeting would go well, 'cause last week Dortmunder and the Doc didn't er, get along all that well. Also with us was Delbert-the-Parrot who we brought back from our recent vacation in the Caribbean because Delbert had a terrific sense of humor and was a great impressionist.
I had a pretty good week trading; my shorts went down, my longs went up and I wanted to tell the doc that Dortmunder had a lot to do with it.
We never quite made it to the doc's. We ended up in the pokey.
Delbert and Dortmunder had become fast friends. Delbert was always perched on Dortmunder's right shoulder. And Dortmunder was always talking to Delbert. I soon found out why.
Suddenly I see flashing lights, look in my rear-view mirror and see a POlice car. Good citizen that I am, I pull over.
"What seems to be the problem officers?" I ask in my most gentle voice. "Was I travelling a bit too fast?" I said respectfully.
"License and registration" said one who's name I learned later was Harvey. He had shoulders wider than a Buick and could strut while standing still.
"Get lost you jerk" said a voice that souned an awful lot like mine...but wasn't.
I spun around to see Dortmunder, a wide grin on his face, with Delbert perched on his shoulder. Dortmunder had obviously told Delbert what to say, and the silly bird had done a perfect impersonation of my voice.
"Oh, a wise guy huh?" said Harvey to his partner Melvin. "Melvin, we got us a real wise guy here."
"NO, no officer" I cried, "That wasn't me. It was the bird. He does great impersonations. He's gonna be on Leno next week."
"Oh yeah?" said the pugnacious Harvey.
"Certainly" I explained softly. "Now get outta here you muscle bound Kelly Girl Cop. Do a ten-four or I'll smack you and our sissy partner upside the head." This was Delbert of course, doing more me.
"Ok pal, outta the car, lean on it and spread 'em." Harvey barked.
"But officer, Doc Kronkite's waiting for us. We have a 7:00 a.m. appointment. He's my shrink."
"Outta the car" he said.
"But officer, it was the bird talking. See, he can throw his voice. And the chimp there he talks. He told Delbert what to say. Just give me 5 ot 6 seconds" I pleaded.
"Well, which is it punk, 5 or 6?" Harvey the cop said softy, menacingly...doing a passable Clint Eastwood. "Maybe you think this is your lucky day. Well is it punk? Come on punk, make my day."
"Dortmunder, tell him!" I screamed. But Dortmunder ignored me while he slowly peeled a banana. "Come on Dortmunder" I hissed, "Tell the officer...this isn't funny."
Dortmunder gave me a quick smirk, jumped up on the seat, screeched a chimp screech and whipped the banana at Harvey's head.
Harvey ducked. His partner Melvin didn't. Splat!
The handcuffs were much too tight, the ride to the station much too fast, the pat-down far too personal. After the booking, the mug shots, "Look straight, turn left, turn right", the prints, Harvey told the desk-seargent "We got us a real wise guy here. Run him through the computer real careful, let's see if the punk's got any priors."
Dortmunder was sitting on a bench, flippng though Baron's and Investor's Businss Daily; Delbert was perched on his right shoulder.
They hit paydirt with the computer; the Mother-Lode. An overdue library book from 1957. At ten-cents a day, with fines penalties and compound interest I owed $1,432.23. An unpaid Boston parking ticket, initially $15, was now $487.30. And for failing to register my dog in Cohasset in '74, $387.50.
As I was writing out a check I heard Harvey add "Disturbing the peace, obstruction of juctice, being a public nuisance and impersonating a police officer."...this because Delbert the Parrot, at Dortmunder's urging while they were hustling me out of my car said, (in my voice of course) "Unhand me this instant rookies or you'll be back pounding a beat. I'm the chief of police in this down, AWK, AWK."
We were late for my session with Doc Kronkite. I told my sad tale to the doc, though all he wanted to do was to talk about my trading week.
"What ex-cons say is true doc. When that metal door slams shut behind you the noise is fearsome. It hits hard; you're in the slammer, the big-house, the joint. I knew my lawyer would spring me doc, but it was a terrible two hours. I looked around. The cell was small, maybe 6 by 8. Then I saw him, my cell mate. He said his name was "Tiny." He wasn't. He wanted my smokes. He got 'em.
They brought us breakfast. Tiny took his tray then mine. "Imagine how pleased I am to share my food with you" I said. Tiny ignored me; ate his breakfast, ate my breakfast, belched a coupla times, looked up.
"I seen you" he said. "You're Kramer, the guy who makes fun of Doc Kronkite. The doc fixed me up real good. Got me to wear a truss. I don't like you."
"My friend Bufflekarp posted bail, and I was sprung doc. I gotta talk to you about this. This could hurt my trading next week." I said.
"So how was your IBM short? Did you cover in time? Ran up strong yesterday."
"Yeah doc, I covered it at 100 1/2, thanks to Dortmunder."
"You brought Doodlegrunter again?" he asked.
"Sure doc, I thought you guys would become great friends, swap trading stories. The two of you working together could be great traders. Think on it doc."
"I will" he said, "now get out of here. Burjis will be here momentarily, then OJ."
"Sure Doc" I said, "and thanks. See you next week."
Lee Kramer
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