As I've said on other occasions, my favorite part of the newspaper is the Metro section. There is more unintended comedy in that section than any other.
In today's news we learn that Michael C. Hamlin has been charged with killing former New York Times reporter David E. Rosenbaum. To be clear, I'm not making fun of anything that happened to Rosenbaum. But to Hamlin? Definitely.
That fool walked into the police station on his block and asked, why "my face is on TV."
I suppose that the police answered with, "Sir, we're glad you asked that question. Could you please have a seat? And would you mind if we put these handcuffs on you while we process some paperwork?"
After killing Rosenbaum, Hamlin and a possible accomplice reportedly tried to used use Rosenbaum's credit cards at a CVS store in southeast Washington and an auto parts business in Prince George's County.
As crazy as all of that sounds, that is not the best part of the story. The italics in the following sentence are mine: "Hamlin walked into the police station last night wearing the same dark jacket, with his first name sewed onto a chest patch, that he had been wearing in a surveillance tape, police said."
I mean, come on. That's like wearing a 7-11 uniform and committing a robbery. People will recognize it. And with your name on it? At some department stores the clerks wear lapel buttons saying, "Ask me how to get a 15 % discount today." In Hamlin's case, his button might have read," Ask me about stick-ups." With his name on his chest, the police could have just called 411 to get his number and asked him to come in for an interview. Based on what the fool has done, is there any doubt that he would have shown up?
The keystone DC cops have probably never had an easier time in solving a murder.