Hey everybody, I have another confession to make: remember how yesterday I wrote about how it was me who pulled off that Brooklyn Bridge white flag stunt? Yeah, well, it wasn’t me, I was just joking. I saw it on the newspaper in the morning and I thought, well, nobody’s taking any credit, maybe I should take credit. Nobody’s going to believe me, I thought, that would be insane.

But people believed me. A couple of G-Men showed up at my house really early this morning. They weren’t happy. “You think national security is some sort of a joke?” The good cop said. I just assumed they were playing good cop, bad cop. The bad cop didn’t say anything. He just kept glaring at me, communicating behind his aviator sunglasses, seriously man, you do not want me to get all bad-cop on your ass.

They had all of these printouts of stuff from this blog, my post from yesterday, my post from a while back expressing a strong desire to climb to the top of the Queensboro Bridge. I told them, “Guys, come on, I’m really sorry, but I’ve written blog posts about waiting tables in space, about what would happen if a giant red asteroid fell to the earth, turning all of the world’s oceans into red Kool-Aid, you can’t take any of this stuff seriously.”

And they said, “Listen kid, it’s post-post-9/11. We take everything seriously.” And I saw the bad cop write something on a little notepad: “Comet, red Kool-Aid, threat?” And then we just kind of stared each other down for a while, which, was really just them staring at me while I tried to avoid their punishing glares. I’m telling you, I think that bad-cop must have had some sort of mind control powers, because I could feel my head being probed, he was making me really uncomfortable.

“No more funny business, OK?” they told me, and I said, “That’s it? I’m not in trouble or anything?” and they didn’t answer, they didn’t have to. I’m just assuming that, no, I’m not in trouble, but at the same time, yes, I’m probably in a little bit of trouble. Some non-trouble.

Like when you get pulled over for speeding and you say to the cop, “Come on,” and he really shouldn’t, but for whatever reason, who knows, maybe you remind this cop of his son, and so he lets you off, but with a written warning. And it’s an official written warning, almost identical to a speeding ticket, but with no fine or loss of points on your license.

That’s the kind of non-trouble that I’m finding myself in right now. Like I think when these guys opened the door and saw me in my pajamas they probably immediately thought to themselves, goddammit, this job was so much easier before the Internet was around, before we had to deal people running their mouths online.

And so they told me to knock it off, not to mention the bridge again. And so I wanted to apologize, (is an apology OK? I’m sure an apology is OK) to everybody that read my post yesterday, who thought I was the one who climbed all the way up there and planted those bleached flags. I’m actually pretty flattered that some people thought me capable of performing such a feat. If anything, I still maintain that I could do it if I wanted to. I’m in great shape, and I think that I could climb any bridge or building in the city without really breaking a serious sweat.

But once again, I’m sorry for tricking you guys. It’s just that, I’m a really convincing writer, so don’t get too down on yourself for believing my tall tales. It’s hard for anybody to read this stuff and not take it at face value. I mean come on, the government sent people to my house. If they believed it could be true, don’t feel bad that you believed it too.

So I guess that leaves the mystery unsolved. I wonder if my friend Ben the Bridge Climber knows anything about it. Nah, I should just stop speculating and leave the investigating to the professionals.