Leading a Dual Life

 

Many of you know I was a Houston Police Officer and the last eight or so years up until my twenty-year retirement was spent on Night Shift at the Northwest Substation.  My assigned beat was Five Frank Twenty-Six, basically Long Point, Wirt, over to Kempwood, Bingle and Hempstead Road.

During that same time, during the daylight hours, I was a self-employed locksmith specializing in the automotive part of the industry. It could be said I was leading a dual life, or perhaps burning the candle from both ends.  Either way, it made it possible for my wife and I to actually retire, no more mortgage payments, our vehicles paid for and having a chance to live our senior years living in our house out in the country.  As long as we pay our taxes, utility bills and such we are comfortable.

The other day while going by Brookshire Brothers grocery store in Buffalo, Texas, to pick up a single item needed to complete a recipe my wife wanted to prepare, I happened to be walking through the produce department and thought I recognized a fellow doing his shopping.

Not being the bashful type, I asked, “Tell me how I know you”, not exactly a question, more of a recognition that I couldn’t explain.  The fellow looked at me quizzically as I extended my hand as if to make sure I was correct.  When he asked my name, I told him, “T. F. Stern”.  He thought about it momentarily and then, as his memory was triggered, he nodded.

“T. F. Stern, the locksmith.  You drove a red truck.” A smile broached his face as he returned my handshake.  He was correct, I had driven a red Dodge Dakota ever since they came out with a V-8 back in 1991.  Prior to that I’d made use of Ford Vans.  I still have a 2003 Dakota, stripped from all the locksmith benches, we use it to haul stuff around, the camper shell protects stuff even though the side panels no longer function the way they’re supposed to. 

Actually, I thought I’d known him from the police department, perhaps a fellow retired police officer; I couldn’t tell you why I’d known his face.  Turns out he’d worked for various car dealerships and eventually worked in the Tomball area.  We talked for a couple of minutes and parted with another handshake. 

Lastly, the other afternoon I got a call from a fellow in the Houston area asking if I was a locksmith.  I laughed for half a second as I replied, “Well, you’ve reached a retired locksmith”.  Before I could explain I’d retired from locksmith work 9 years earlier and moved out to the country, he apologized, said he’d dialed the wrong number and hung up.  Every now and then I’ll get a call from someone in the automotive industry hoping I still made keys for cars and trucks, my cellphone number remains the same as it has been for a very long time. The best part, I never ever get a call asking me to report for duty as a police officer.