Walking the Blue Line

You never know what you’re gonna hear when you’re eavesdropping. It could be anything: the innocuous plans of a domestic duo, a hushed confession, a quick make-out session. A low-voiced threat. A Sunday morning, probably six o’clock or so. The rave was over, the partiers taking off in loud cars, their engines gunning and tires squealing as they left the warehouse in downtown Jacksonville. In the warehouse office, I heard the thump of equipment cases being slammed shut, imagined some of the guys squatting and hefting the big speakers from the four corners of the room. I should have been down there; it was my job to be humping some of that weight but I was so tired. Tired of doing these damned all-nighters. I looked young, all blond hair and boyish features that let me get away with inf