Jennifer, Crime Stopper

studs with guns

So I'm on my way home from the gym, after work. Waiting patiently for the light, a white car speeds towards me, wrong-way down the street, and screeches around the corner I am about to cross.

Huh. Good thing I waited for the light, I think.
I am a chronic jaywalker.

The car crashes to a stop up on the curb around the corner. a guy jumps out and runs like a bat out of hell, back towards the intersection he just peeled through, past me, down the street.

2 SFPD cars come wailing around both corners, guns drawn, crawling all over the empty car, searching the alleys between the houses.

I am so helpful.

"Excuse me." I say quite canadian-ly to the nice man in the swat gear and the automatic rifle.
I fucking love america.
I walk towards him.

"Sorry, miss, you can't come into this block, there's a manhunt, guns are drawn."

I smile sweetly. "Well, the man hunt better move down the street, because the man who popped out of that car just ran by me in the opposite direction."

Blank stare.

"Thatta way." I point plaintively down the street, desperate for a sign of comprehension.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You're quite welcome."

You know, sometimes, all you have to do is ask.
But I have a sneaking suspicion that I took all the fun out of their Tom Clancy play-date.

Addendum: 
How do you tell a real cop from a leather daddy costume in San Francisco?
This is not a joke, this is a real-life problem. Every time I see a cop in this city, I have to supress my instinct to scream, "Hey girl!" and stuff a fiver in his pants.