Detective Sergeant “Palone” Ortiz bristled with a dark and quiet anger at this latest indignity, this new injustice. Juannie Rodriquez was a little crazy sure, but they had been partners working street crimes for three years with no problems up to him being placed on suspension last week for shooting an asshole who deserved it majorly.
Having a stranger, some “Detective Patrick Michael O’Shawnasea” to watch his back
on the street was not a good feeling, and the Captain was still too pissed off at Juannie,
to hear anything Palone had to say. “Why from way cross town, why him, why a guy so, so white?” muttered Palone, and with a rising voice continued “I swear if he makes one fucking taco joke, one fucking Speedy Gonzales crack, I’ll loose it and won’t be responsible for what happens.”
Next day as the tension in their unmarked car climbing higher and higher till the new guy let out a long slow sigh, shook his head and said “Man, you know…. I could never stand to live around here like you people do, never, just couldn’t deal with it!”
As Palone considered several extremely violent options, O’Shawnasea continued
“I mean, look at these Spanish women, just look, – their eyes, how they smile, and ohmygod how they wear their jeans- I’d never get anything done falling in love, what three times every block”, leaving Detective Sergeant Ortiz to chuckle and reply “Yeah, sure, maybe- it’s just a neighborhood thing I guess ……. I never noticed.”