When Molly attended Boston Latin School, I walked her to the Andrew Square T stop to wait for the CT3 bus. One morning I looked at the net pouch on her backpack and found it was loaded with wrappers from breakfast bars. She looked like a walking NASCAR ad for sugary treats.
She didn't like acknowledging me or anyone else while waiting for the bus, but she acquiesced and let me pick the wrappers out like gorilla cleaning cleaning another's back.
"Do you know this person?"
Transit cops thought I was a stranger and approached Molly to see if I needed to be dealt with.
Thankfully, she said, "I know him."
If she said, "Help Police!" as a joke, this would be another sad moment in Chad History.
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