More Tales from the Booth

I had tried to post during the major network overhaul the other day. Consequently , my finely chiseled phrases and elegenat paragraphs are now lost to the ether. Because, basically, I can't read the instructions . SO, forethwith. .. . .
Last week , on a gray drizzley day, 2 guys come into the booth. One was a short fairly well dressed kid. Baggy jeans , nice wind breaker jacket, non -despcript novelty baseball cap. Closely followed by a kid who had what could only be thought of as a bad dye job. When I say "kids" anywhere from 17-25.He had darker skin and frizzy brown hair, underneath the coppery blond. He had a big novelty t-shirt on and even baggier pants and had grand pa glasses on. You know , the kind of practical glasses your grand daddy might have worn or maybe you had to wear for safety in shop class. They walked at a brisk trot and we were pretty sure they were going to stay in there and do drugs. We were all looking, aware, even the cleaning lady. My manager looked at me and said "Uh-oh. I think we're going have a problem" . And as soon as this information had seeped in to us they both trotted back out into the park. We were relieved.
5 minutes later, the kid with the bad dye job comes back in. My manager had to go do do some paper work in the Ranger Station. Before she left she said "If he's not out of there in 10 minutes come get me." SO, I sat there watching the clock like a dog waiting to be fed-resigned that I could do nothing on my own. 1o minutes passed, as I went to get her she came back in "Is he still in there ?" "Yes" we replied. Okay, let's find a Ranger.
There were none to be had.
Tight budget.
They sent the most recenet , well -trained bunch-out into the unemployment line.
Fortunately, there was a Municipal Cruiser , cruising by in the park. My mananger waived them down. The 2 cops come in , go into the mens room and knock on the stall door. We hear a flush, he flushed the works down the toilet.The cops could see him do it through the crack between the door and the wall. (Don't ever stick your hand down a public toilet. You don't know what's down there. The city Plumbing guys are Saints , as far as I'm concerned).
The cops ask him if he's doing drugs. He can't really respond. These guys are really ruining his High. He is informed that they witnessed him flushing it down the toilet and they read him his rights and they cuff him. . . all on the bench in the center. .. with visitors coming in to look at pamphlets and to use the bathroom. There was one family came in to use the facilities and this little girl wearing one of those really nice Madeleine style coats, with white tights and patent leather shoes was watching with particular interest. Either because she likes cops, or was just really inquisitive or couldn't fathom the thinking that went into that bad dye job. It was not a proud day.
They took him away. All the while I was sure the kid who sold him the drugs was watching. Don't know why, I just knew he was.
Sure enough, at the end of the day, I was walking up to the train station and there's the guy at the corner of the park. He had to have watched the whole thing from a safe distance. I wasn't sure what to do. Confront the guy and tell him to never sell drugs in our bathroom again ? Call the Municipal police on my cell phone and tell them I saw the other half of that drug transaction ? Come get him ? I was conflicted. I made breif eye contact with him and kept going.
I had a train to catch and this isn't a network tv show. I'm not Angela Landsbury and this ain't a quaint fishing village.