[changing a flat tire on a remote desert road; police car rolls up to see if I need help]
Cop: So why are you out here in the middle of nowhere anyway?
Me: [pointing to nearby ramshackle houses] Scouting for a movie. We’re looking for an isolated desert property.
Cop: [pause] You understand who lives in those houses, right?
Me: I mean, yeah, I’ve had my share of sketchy encounters with addicts and the like. But I’m always cautious when knocking, and I have a history of getting myself out of bad situations.
Cop: OK. OK. [longer pause] Yeah, see, I just feel like if you really knew who lives in those houses? You wouldn’t be knocking at all, brother.
[police car drives off, leaving me with a lot of questions…and, as I look out at the desolate houses, the sudden very strong feeling that I’m being watched]
