We park our unit out of the way. We walk a little bit away across a parking lot, toward a small Thai restaurant we want to try.
We get to in front of a pizza place 2 doors down.
“M25, move up to cover Zone 1.”
We pause directly in front of the the pizza place, about 50 feet away, in line with the open front door. My partner pulls the black mic of the portable radio up to his mouth, “M25 copy.”
We pause, turn around, and walk back to the unit. I hear a whistle, but I pay no attention.
We get in the unit, start it, and start moving. A man comes walking toward us, briskly. He has an apron on.
“Why were you taking pictures of my car?”
“You took pictures of my car! I saw you! In front of my store!” He points to the pizza place.
“You saw wrong. We didn’t take pictures of your car.”
“I saw you!”
“This is an ambulance. Why would we take pictures of your car?”
“I saw you taking pictures!”
“Relax. No one took pictures of your car.”
My partner holds the black lump of portable radio up, “Is this what you saw?”
“No one cares about your stupid car.”
We drive off.
Good thing he didn’t say anything else. The two of us have too many years combined to keep it together and keep our mouths shut for one second longer.