Looking like a cop

Sorry, no photo, but on my morning ride to work, I stopped in the bike lane at a red light, and a gentleman Shakespeare would have termed a "rustic" began crossing Sandy Blvd in the crosswalk ahead of me. He stopped in front of my bike.
"Are you a cop?" he demanded of me. There was no one else there, he had to be talking to me.
"Pardon?"
"Are you a cop?"
"Um. No, not today?" I was a little bewildered by the question.
"You look like a cop," he said, standing there with his fists on his hips in the middle of the street.
"Ahh .. no . ." I'm fit, but not brawny. I'm on a bike with a change of clothing in my bag. No mirrored sunglasses. Black shorts and black jacket, yes, but the jacket says IMBA in large white letters. "I look like a bike commuter."
"You got all the cop gear."
A yellow pannier, a green backpack, a gray helmet, gloves. I'm not seeing this. Luckily, the light turned green, and I steered my bike around the man and continued my commute.
In case you need to know, Portland Bike cops look more like this. Bike commuters look like . . . well, almost anything else. Full business suit, full racing kit, rain jacket, no shirt, bike shoes, flipflops, skirt, kilt, speedos, tie, scrubs, you name it. But not very much like a bike cop.