A mullet and a moustache

The students in Valencia are mad. They're mad for the same reason everyone here is mad lately -- recortes -- and they've been protesting for a few days now. The police in Valencia are mad at the students for being mad at the recortes, and it's all playing out about how extended protests usually do: Some of the students maybe got violent and some of the police definitely got violent and both sides are pointing fingers all over the place and the news has it all on extended repeat. The cafe where I had coffee and jamon for breakfast today had two TV's worth of repetitive coverage. The other cafe-goers were pretty animated, but in Catalan; they were talking about fascists in general and Franco in particular and I couldn't understand much beyond that.

I assume the Valencian drama explains the police who have been hanging around the university where I work lately. Yesterday there was a knock on my office door and two dudes came in. One was in a police uniform and the other had a mullet and a moustache. "We're the police," said the one in the cop suit, "can we take a look around?" "Okaaaaay....," I said. It's not even my office, really. "Is anything wrong?" I asked them. "In principal, no." They took a look around, which meant standing in the middle of the office and shifting their eyes a little, and then they thanked me and left. That's gotta be the most "cop-mullet-moustache-can we have a look around" story ever.