Somehow I earned a reputation (utterly unwarranted, I assure you) of hitting the café early and for lengthy periods. One of my teammates, Al Smith, was an auxiliary deputy for the sheriff’s department, and one morning about thirty minutes into the shift, I noticed several of my coworkers near aboard on all sides of me. Suddenly, my wrist was enveloped by a loop of steel from Al’s handcuffs, immediately after which the other loop was snapped around the bail of an overhead console, the perpetrators melting rapidly out of reach.
It was avowed that I would stay at the sector for some time, apparently as a result of my undeserved rep. I sat there for a while and when it became clear that no relief was forthcoming I took matters into my own hand (the other rendered essentially useless, hanging as it was, over my head). I managed to get hold of a paper clip and after some moments of manipulation picked the lock on the handcuffs and wound up with the last laugh and the next break.
Last updated: 20 January 2011