If Ever I'm Shot, I Hope That Guy That Looks Like Vince Vaughn's Big Brother Goes Crazy And Solves The Case While His Pretty Partner Nods Beside Him

I hate mystery. And suspense. I always read the end of a book just after I start the first few pages. And I skip around the rest to find out everything I want to know. In my own order. On my own schedule. And it all seems to make sense. To me.

I never saw Law and Order. On TV. I saw them shooting it. Many times. Most notably when I crossed Cooper Square one morning on my way into the office and there was a city bus overturned and lots of people milling around, but everyone was so calm and quiet, and I got really scared. And then I saw the photocopied “no parking because we’re filming” signs – only after I believed I was about to see a bus full of people so dead that it shocked the crowd into silence. (Also the time I saw a van dangling over the water east of the South Street Seaport, and people were screaming about children and a field trip, and lots of police cars – and all of it was fake and for some incarnation of the series.) So I‘d a feeling I’d no desire to see the show.

But then I saw it. And then I saw the website: When Is Law and Order On? And then I started DVRing all three branches of the series. And then, in the span of one week, I watched 21 episodes. And now, tonight, I found myself asking the suddenly sketchy-seeming cab driver to drop me off down the block from my home. And I walked into an apartment building that isn’t mine. And I stood in the lobby and watched through the window until I was sure he’d pulled away, and only then did I walk over and into my house. Just in case.

No more mysteries for me.