Stop Harassing the Pig!

So there I was, standing on the sidewalk, surrounded by about eight male residents and holding this pig as the cop stepped out of his car and crossed the street, pointing in my direction.

"What're you doing with that pig?" he asked. He paused in his previous inquiry as he looked at me quizzically and posed a new question: "Why do you look familiar?"

I was probably just as confused as he was.

"I'm an RA here," I said. And what was I doing with that pig...

***

It was just like any other day for a resident assistant, swiping ID cards at the entrance to my hall. By myself. It's a stimulating occupation, really. My homework was piled beside me and I had every intention of getting something done -- until I opened a window on the internet. Even then I convinced myself that my visits to all my personal blogs and networking sites would only be to stop in for a second. But then the ad in the corner looked interesting, so I clicked on that and ended up playing a reflex-testing game tranquilizing sheep for about another half-hour. By then it was just pointless to get my homework started, especially since now my goal of becoming a turbo-charged cheetah in my sheep game was much more important than finishing my research paper for tomorrow.

I looked up as some residents came through the doors, and I swiped their IDs. Going back to my sheep game, I did not pay attention to the people coming out of the elevator behind me when I heard it ding. They walked outside, and then one of them ran back in and said my name, making me miss a sheep that broke from the heard. GAH! I was sure my record would never be broken, now.

"Yes?" I said.

"Do you want to see a pig?" the resident said.

Well, this was a pleasant change of pace. There is the potential for something interesting to happen down here tonight! Still, I had no idea what this kid was talking about. So I said, "What are you talking about?"

He told me to just come outside, which normally isn't the best idea, but I was intrigued. I followed him out to the sidewalk and saw a man standing a few feet away, wearing a sweater that he had wrapped around something he was holding. Low and behold - the thing was a freaking pig. Actually, it was a freaking adorable baby pig. It's little snout was all brown and wrinkled up, and it shivered in the chilly air as the man held his sweater open.

"Do you want to hold it?" the man asked. I wasn't sure how he couldn't predict my answer by the totally smitten look on my face as I fell in love with the precious little thing. I reached out to take it's tiny, shaking body into my arms. That was when the cop car pulled up.

"I'm going to need you all to step away from the pig!" the officer ordered from his car. We all stood staring at him, frozen in utter confusion. He repeated, slightly different: "I'm going to need you all to stop harassing the pig!"

Still getting no response, the officer stepped out of his vehicle -- which brings us to my interrogation narrated at the opening to this tale.

***

"I'm an RA here," I said. "And...I'm holding the pig? And petting it?"

The cop looked around at the eight residents. "Are you harassing the pig?" he asked.

The man in the sweater hesitantly answered, "The pig is my pet, and no, we weren't harassing it."

Nodding, the officer turned back to me. "Well, we had complaints of someone harassing a pig," he explained. He awkwardly stepped back off the sidewalk and began retreating to his car. "Be nice to the pig," he added, before getting in the vehicle and driving away.

 I quickly gave the pig back and left the group to discuss their confusion while I returned to my simple, sheep-tranquilizing life.

Like I said, this is a stimulating occupation.