Anyway, with a 24-year-old, you’re bound to get in a deep discussion. We ate our chips (discuss, discuss, discuss), and then our main course (discuss, discuss, discuss). And then we stood up and walked out of the restaurant, still discussing.

Driving back to work I got a call from one of my colleagues. “Were you just at Joe Vera’s for lunch?” Yes, I was. “Did you pay the bill?” Uhh … Long silence. Oops. “Well, there was a police officer here looking for you.” Longer silence. In my rear-view mirror I saw a police car not far behind. Panic. I turned left and the cop continued on. He hadn’t spotted me.

As quickly as possible, I returned to Joe Vera’s and paid the bill. The kid at the register was kind enough to point out the surveillance camera over the door and mentioned that more than anything the cops in Provo love to hunt down dine-and-dash low-lifes. Back at the office, everyone stuck to the cop story.

In the end it turned out that the folks at Joe Vera’s knew who I was and had sent somebody over to the office to collect. There never was a cop. But there will be revenge.