The Timoney Boot Party Countdown, Day 2

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Whitney Roux
The morning breeze whips John Timoney's rosy cheeks as he settles into his rowboat moored at the Miami Beach Rowing Club. He pushes off the dock and begins paddling up Indian Creek, soaking in the dry, mild November weather, pondering where his next gig will be.

Maybe he'll roll through Tomas Regalado's mayoral inauguration ceremony at noon today and pay a little homage to the man who replaced his homie Manny Diaz. Or maybe he'll call up Coral Gables City Manager Pat Salerno or send an email to his old top cop pal Miami-Dade Mayor Carlos Alvarez. After all, both of them are in need of a good autocratic controversial police chief now that both of their departments are leaderless.

While Miami's police chief contemplates his next move as he bobs along the Intracoastal Waterway, he reflects on the happier times of his tenure in the Magic City, like when the Department of Homeland Security gave him and the city $8.5 million to put the kibosh on protesters during the 2003 Free Trade Area of the Americas summit. Everything was so simple then, riding around on his bike, descending on young knuckleheads like that punk he came up on during the main day of the protests. He'll never forget what he told him:

"You're bad. Fuck you!"

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