counterpunch

Day 4, and I am no longer reeling against the ropes. I have begun my counter-attack against the heavyweight in the black and white trunks, carrying a radar gun. I have my arms up, at least. I have hired Len and Cheryl, very calm folks with a background in law enforcement, to fight my speeding ticket for me.

They are a good team. Cheryl is sympathetic. Oh, that's too bad, she comments when I tell her my plight. She doesn't actually say much more than this, but her attitude shows that she is very much on my side. I can hear her thinking, You are such a good man, how could they have done this to you? There, there, honey, you put your head right here and let me make it all better for you.

Len is not so much sympathetic as non-judgmental. And calm. He is so calm. I can picture him on the phone with a murderer. Uh huh, he would say. And how big was the knife you used? Uh huh. With serrations? Yeah, I know that kind -- I have one at home myself. And, uh, how many times did you stab the victim? Twenty or thirty, eh? Yeah, it's tough to keep count, isn't it. Well, that's all I need right now...

It's important to have people on your side. I would not choose loyalty over competence, in this case, but I can appreciate the position of the dictator who brings in his guys simply because he can count on them. (I'd use inclusive language here but for the life of me I cannot come up with any female dictators. Plenty of tough female bosses. I'm sure Condoleezza has her guys.) Len and Cheryl are my guys