Just outside Little Rock, Arkansas, a known “flasher” was at it again. Jumpin’ Jack, as he was called by the local police, would often get naked and do calisthenics at his apartment window across the street from the local bank. Not only were his exercise habits offensive to the people who worked in the bank; local merchants also complained that Jack’s jumping was bad for business.
Now, Jack was bold and a little demented, but he wasn’t stupid. He would always hide his face in some way or pull the blinds halfway so that he could only be seen from the waist down. These precautions made it more difficult for him to be identified (especially in light of the fact that the police don’t hold naked lineups).
After receiving a number of complaints one day, the Little Rock Police Department sent over one of its best officers to investigate. As the detective knocked on Jack’s door, he thought about how hard it was to prove cases like Jack’s. Without a positive I.D., such situations quickly degenerate to “my word against yours.” Our detective decided to take a different approach.
“All right, Jack, who have you got hiding in there with you?”
“I don’t have anyone hiding in here!” Jack yelled angrily from behind the door.
“The girls over at the bank tell it differently. They say they saw someone sneaking in here a little earlier today.”
Jack opened the door. “They’re crazy,” he said. “There hasn’t been anyone in my apartment all day long except me. See for yourself.”
The officer did. He saw it all, from Jack’s head down to his toes. Jumpin’ Jack was finally arrested for indecent exposure.