Still Living

I had an awful weekend. I spent it out in the rain, directing traffic. You heard me. Traffic. Even detectives get dragged out to handle protests and such. It rained, and people still frickin' protested.
Kenny Briscoe got attacked by tourists who watched too many cop shows - and Carolyn, well, I'll let her tell you what happened to her.
It was cold and wet and gross. A sure sign of this was a shop near my house that sells vintage coats at $10 a pop. On days like this, the rack gets cleared out at least two times over. In a fit of nostalgia, I went looking for a shop in St. Mark's place, only to find out that it'd closed five years ago. Five YEARS. Great.
I meant to go to the Met. Museum of Art and hang out at the Temple of Dendur, but it was so foul out that I put on some records and went to bed.

So I hope your weekend was better.