Well, they're dressed like bandits, aren't they?

I walk into the college gardens, which is a nice little urban green space about a quarter of a block long.

An older fellow is sitting on one of the benches. As I pass him, he asks "Do you work here?"

"Yes."

Him asking me twice more is not a propitious sign for the future course of the conversation. But once we clear up my employment status, he says, "I just want to let you know: I was in here the other night at 11."

(OK, I am thinking, what are you doing hanging around our garden at 11 at night?)

"And I saw something moving. I thought it was a cat. But then I looked more closely: it was a raccoon!"

"I see."

"It was a raccoon!" he repeats, clearly deciding that I am somewhat dense.

"OK, and what would you like me to do about that?"

"Well, you had better tell somebody."

"I will, I will."

And so I am telling all of you.

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