I didn't want to go in (because my son was due home at any minute). J. didn't want to come out (in sock feet, no jacket, etc.) so we just wasted J.'s heat for a few minutes while we discussed our lives (which are good, but have had some changes that we hadn't caught up on). A cop drives slowly past my house, then past J.'s house, then reverses and drives into J.'s driveway. We watch as the cop rolls his window and asks, "Are you soliciting?" We look at him blankly, because, wha - ? "Are you a solicitor?" Ah! I get it. He thinks I'm trying to sell something to J., and I am supposed to pay for a license or whatever for that from Town Hall and probably someone has called in because someone else has been seen (or, who knows! Maybe a particularly oblivious neighbor thought I was soliciting from J.? Unlikely! Because at this point, I know all the neighbors and they all know me) and the cop is looking for that person.
So I go over and lean down and tell the cop that I live in that house over there (think about reaching into my coat pocket to pull out my phone to show him my driver's license; conclude that that is just way too complicated and I don't want to freak him out) and J. and I are neighbors and my daughter is playing in the snow and I am waiting for my son to get home and that's why we are talking on the porch. I can see his eyes glaze over in that way that middle aged men's eyes glaze over when a wife or wife-type-peer is really just going on and on and on and decide I can terminate the story at any time now and just let him go on about his business. J. and I wait until he is a few houses down the road and then start cracking jokes about the _other_ possible interpretation of solicitation.