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A pointless victory in a fake war.

I do not trust people. It is not a learned habit but something instinctive, I think. People are inherently evil and malicious unless they make a conscious effort otherwise. People believe that trust is something that they are entitled to. Something they deserve. It is not. Trust is something earned. A reward.

Most people do not deserve to receive such a gift, as they would end up abusing it. If there is one thing that people are very good at, it is disappointing you. Everybody has ulterior motives for everything they do. Everybody. No exceptions.

Distrusting everyone you meet is a terrible way to go through life, though. It strains your relationships to breaking points and makes you a callous person. Unapproachable. Bitter. That's okay, I guess. If nobody gets close, nobody gets the advantage.

I parked the truck far back in the parking lot. I wanted to walk through the cold. I drew my coat around me and walked toward the store. I noticed them at about the halfway point. I slowed my pace.

It was two policemen, presumably. They had large windbreakers on with "POLICE" in large letters across the back. The jackets were pulled up on the sides to expose their pistols. Steadily, they made their way down the row of parked cars, circling each vehicle and peering into the windows. After they had thoroughly examined each car they would either fill out a piece of paper and slip it under the windshield wiper or move on to the next vehicle. I stopped in the roadway.

A woman next to me was unloading her cart into her trunk. The policemen passed our position, placing papers beneath the wipers and continuing on. "What are they doing?" I asked. She looked at me, a car that had received a slip, and back at me. "Is that your car?" She asked. I narrowed my eyes. It was an irrelevant question and I was particularly irked about having my time wasted with tangents. "No." "I don't know." She answered. She smiled and continued with her business. I walked back to my car.

The woman was thoroughly unconcerned with what was going on around her. Did she not see anything wrong with what was happening? Who put the policemen in a position to pervade peoples' privacy like that in the parking lot? Was I the only person there that was alarmed that they were sweeping through the lot, looking into everyone's cars? Were they handing out informational pamphlets? No, they would have given a slip to everyone. Were they tickets? Possibly.

An easy way to meet their quota.

I started the truck as they watched. They were about to examine my car as they had the entire row before. They watched me as I pulled forward and across the lot. I glared back. I pulled into a spot among cars they had already examined. I stood in the roadway again, watching them get into their car. They stared back.

I am a carpet for no one. Though others might, I will not be stepped on by bastards and expected to pay the bill afterward.

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