love

I love the people I swam with and got arrested with. I'd say all in all my time in the holding cell was kind of like going to a party that wasn't great, wasn't shitty, but was out of beer and was just kind of OK. Oh also the kind of party where someone had apparently puked in the bathroom before you got there.

I love the police officers who arrested us. They thought it was hilarious. Even the one who was an asshole at least got made fun of by the other ones. One of them tried to convince the pool proprieter to let us off with tickets, as is customary in such situations. When asked if we'd get busted for open containers as well, one of them facetiously said for all he knew, the beer and whiskey containers on the table had been there all day. One of them consoled me on the pitiable male to female ratio of this particular skinny-dipping outing (it was 9 to 2 when the police arrived). I'm sure they also get angry and act like dicks, but also eat ceral and brush their teeth.

I love the bitchy-ass desk workers of the justice center. They probably don't get paid enough. They are a pain in my own and probably most people's asses. That is their job. But I love them. I imagine they go home sometimes and eat food, or read books, or pet their dogs.

I love the proprieter of the pool where I got arrested. He probably felt it was his duty to have us arrested. He probably even felt bad about it. He probably does things like eat, watch TV, feel feelings, hug people, and drive places.

Burt Bacharach told us that what the world needs now is love. That was a while ago, but I imagine it is still true. It's easy to love your friends and your lovers and your family and your favorite people. I don't know that there was ever any lack of that sort of love. It is hard to love the petty bitch at the service counter, or the know-it-all dickhead security guard, or the stupid-as-fuck asshole who is tailgating you, or the self-righteous fuckface bitch on TV. It's way harder, but I'm pretty sure that's the kind of love that people like Burt Bacharach, J.D. Salinger (Franny and Zooey), and Jesus (Matthew 5:43-48) were talking about.

I love you!