You spin hope wiggle your cock. You chant scream and do other objectionable things. But this is the day of the cellphone narc. Of grandmas driving all over the place in their expensive cars cell phone ready with 911 on speed dial. Always looking for ways to get young people in trouble for living free and wild. Three such calls are directed against you. The Tattle tell mafia so to speak. But you are done with your thing. You shove your floppy man meat back into the loose fitting pants and move on. The cops arrive nine minutes later, having taken the time to finish their donuts coffee and conversation. You are safe and gone.