I was driving south along Seal Beach Boulevard, and when I made a right turn, I literally left behind Orange County and entered a whole new world.
Leisure World.
Before me was a massive, revolving globe, which was kind of fitting. I waited in line behind some shuttle buses, and when my turn came to approach the security gate, the world’s oldest security guard came out sporting a clipboard and a frown.
“ Who’re you here to see?” he asked.
“ Poppie,” I said.
“ Poppie who?”
“ Just Poppie.”
“ You don’t have a last name?”
“ That’s all she gave me.”
“ What’s your business here?”
“ I’m going to apprehend a flasher.”
“ A what?”
“ A flasher. A man who reveals his genitalia to women. Or a woman who reveals herself to men, although I’ve never been so lucky.”
He looked down at his list, looked at me, and then asked me to pull around and park. I did as I was told. A minute or two later, I found myself sitting in an old office that could have doubled as an interrogation room.
Shortly, another man appeared. He was wearing the same security outfit, but this one had bars on the sleeves. A captain security guard. I nearly saluted. He asked to see my private investigator license and I gave it to him. He studied it closely and left the office. I heard a copy machine whir on. I next heard him typing on a computer, and about five minutes later, he came back in. He handed back my license, sat in a squeaky chair behind the simple wooden desk. He introduced himself as Tony Hill. He smelled like Old Spice and sweat.
“ You check out,” said Tony Hill.
“ That’s a relief.”
“ Your license is in good standing with the state, and there are currently no complaints against you.”
“ Today must be my lucky day.”
“ I Googled your name. Are you the same Jim Knighthorse who played for UCLA?”
“ One and the same.”
“ I hate UCLA.”
“ Those are fighting words.”
He sat back and studied me. I often wondered what people thought about when they studied me. Impressed? Terrified? Envious? All of the above?
“ I don’t like you,” he finally said.
“ Doesn’t surprise me,” I said. “Most guys don’t like me. They tend to feel inferior. Less than a man. Especially if their ladies are around. It’s hard to measure up.”
He didn’t move a muscle. His stomach was mostly flat and he had some muscle around his shoulders. If I had to guess, I would say he was in his sixties. Finally, he said, “You think you’re pretty tough, don’t you?”
“ Compared to a charging rhino? Not so much. Compared to you, I think the answer is obvious. But if you want, we can duke it out old-school style. Throw on some gloves. Or better yet, dueling pistols.”
He shook his head and a grin might have appeared on his lips. “You’re a cocky son-of-a-bitch.”
“ I might have heard that once or twice. The thing is, I can back it up.”
He rubbed his smooth jaw. “I don’t have to let you in, Mr. Knighthorse. I have guys working on this case now. Except…”
“ Except the flasher is still out there.”
“ Fucking pervert. Got all the women here up in arms. The park president is breathing down my neck.”
“ You could use the help,” I said.
He got up, stepped out of the room, and came back with a visitor’s pass. “Just try not to cause too many problems.”
“ Me? Never.”
“ And let’s catch this old pervert, okay? He’s making my life a living hell.”
“ We can’t have that,” I said.
“ You have free rein in the park. Talk to whomever you want. I trust you will be discreet.”
“ Discreet is my middle name. Well that and Badass, of course.”
He shook his head and waved me off, and I happily left, clipping my visitor’s badge to the sleeve of my tee shirt.