Reeking of
formaldehyde, he sat on the bench and smiled. Randolph had been watching
the crowd for just over two hours when the police arrived. Initially,
Randolph was nervous, afraid that someone had noticed him, became suspicious
and called the authorities. But the two, shiny police officers didn't even look
at Randolph as they hurried past, looks of determination creasing their
faces. Randolph relaxed at their passing.
Randolph had
documented fourteen in his first category, thirty-seven in his second and
nineteen in his third, all of them exemplary. He decided to give himself one
more hour and then he would stop for the day, pretty well content with his
level of success. The last hour passed rather uneventfully, with the
exception of the young man in short shorts who winked at him, Randolph was the
proverbial "fly on the wall." Gathering his notebook and pen,
Randolph started his walk home.