As the idiot walks

So there I was (because that's how all good redneck-in-peril stories begin... and yes, this is almost a redneck-in-peril story). Sitting in my hotel room in grand ol' Baltimore, looking down upon the city from almost top of the Tremont Plaza. It was 5 o'clock, and the streets were more backed up than the line at the beer stand for a Baptist picnic. What's a pudgy, suburban house-dad to do?

Donning my trusty Cabela's parka and SPSU sock hat, I hit by the "attractions" kiosk in the lobby to figure out where to head. I figure, can't go wrong with the Inner Harbor, center of most things civilized (read: it has a Barnes and Noble and a Starbucks). Now, gentle reader, do note that there is a... err, note on this machine that clearly states "walking directions." This is where things start to get interesting.

I head out the door and start to follow the printout, taking note of the various sites I see. I left, right, left to Baltimore St, then South St... and then I notice them. Trucks. Lots of them. Big ones, too.

Loaded in the back of the first truck: SWAT vests, body armor, boots. All marked Baltimore PD. Cool, I think; I'm in the safest part of the city right now.

More truck stuff, including lights - BIG lights. Like Batman without the symbol. I sneak a peek to my right as I approach an intersection - completely blocked off by one of the jerks with the trucks - and see a wall of cars one behind the other. But.. it's quiet. My eyes drift up and just as I see the camera...

"Quiet on the set!" Ohhhh did things get quiet - even the crickets were quiet.
"Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah take 32! Click!"
"Action!"

Pandemonium. Horns blaring. People come out of nowhere walking the roped off street block that I just wandered in to!!! I'm on a movie set, folks!

Only the camera wasn't even close to pointing at me. Oh, well.