Well, it finally happened. My forays into the marginalized existence of a street performer have led me into direct negative contact with the law.
The law came in the form of a somewhat husky female police officer with a deep voice and a fierce manner of walking.
Apparently, my first problem was that I had written out a small note to passers-by, which read, "I am 1/6 of the Asheville band sirius.B. Please take a card, and please leave a tip if you enjoy the music." Apparently, the presence of the tipping sign moved me from the category of street performer to pan-handler. At least that's why I assume there was a problem with the sign.
After making me fold up and put away said sign, the rather gruff woman informed me that I would need to keep it down, that she "had already received several complaints" (which I doubt, though it is entirely possible that some people don't enjoy my "soothing tunes and graceful rhythms". Still--how likely is that "several" people were too cowardly and lame to ask me to keep it down, and instead called the cops?) -- Regardless of the veracity of her statement, I was made to understand that I could not continue "bellering" (this is really the word she used) and that I would need to tone it down a bit.
Needless to say, she ruined my mojo, and I angrily and sadly packed up the tambourine (I had been tapping it beneath my feet), the kazoo with its holder (ahhhh....how I love the kazoo) and the guitar.
I can't remember . . . what was it that N.W.A. said about the police again?