I was going to be a reporter. And I was in journalism school, and I saw this big fire!
Carolyn and I were driving home at night (we were married in college) and we could see it in the distance, near our apartment. A GIANT FIRE! HUGE!
We drove right by it! A whole big building was engulfed in flames! And -- really weird -- no one was around. No cops, no firefighters, nobody. I alertly decided I'd cover the fire for extra credit in my JOURN 371 reporting class!
I ran into our apartment, grabbed my reporter's notebook and pencil, and dashed the back way to the scene! I could feel the heat of the fire, as cop cars and firetrucks arrived!
I didn't want to get in their way, so I stayed back, behind the bushes, watching them! That way I wouldn't bother them! I could see them fight the fire! I could see them yelling at each other! I could see them making gestures, and pointing at me as I lurked in the bushes!
MEMO TO FUTURE REPORTERS: Don't "lurk".
I was apprehended, put in the back of the squad car and interrogated. Turned out I brought my pencil but forgot my reporter pad. The detectives came back to our apartment at 1 a.m., banged on the door, and took my clothes to the lab.
I asked my grizzled, former CBS White House reporter-professor if he'd ever gotten to the scene of a crime so quickly, he'd been apprehended by the cops. He left the room and I heard him laughing in the hallway.
I am not a reporter at this time.