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We interrupt your normal broadcast for this special Actual State of the Union address. Last night while our El Presidente was blathering on about what a great place we live in these days, your editor was standing in the parking lot outside Dottie's chatting with degenerate VP. VP sat in her car with the engine running when another car whips into the lot. Three men jump out of the car with menacing looks, enough to make Frederick start to back up a bit. When the guns whip out it's enough to make me run. Instinct took over and I sprinted for the door of Dottie's to get help. I hear a guy yell "Give it up!" One guy pursued and I was glad to draw them away from VP. I flung the door open and shouted "DIAL 911!!". I turned to see VP close behind, turned back to yell again only to see nobody was paying attention and bellowing at the top of my lungs didn't change that. VP screaming through the bar area did. (I didn't find out until later that one had held a gun to VP's head and pulled her from the car.)
I turned back to see VP's car headed out of the lot and the other guys running around the corner. Again instinct got the better of rational thought and I leapt into my car. Out of the corner of my eye I see a couple of Dottie's regulars charging out the door with pool cues in hand.
I got out onto Memorial and they were gone. I realized they must've turned a corner so I turned. No car. I turned the next one and spotted VP's one tail light headed over the hill. "Got ya'." I followed the driver for a while, ended up on and off I-20. The guy went into a gas station parking lot and realized someone was taking more than a coincidental route. The chase begins. Lots of little side streets and we're on Moreland. A bunch of turns later we're back on I-20, moving fast. I'm honking and trying to get anyone to call the cops on a car phone, and wishing I had my own. 75/85 south was more exciting with a couple 18 wheelers getting in the way. The driver is getting pissed, looking all over for a way to ditch me. Down Pryor street I started to get worried - he probably knew the neighborhood, but at least he hadn't started shooting yet. Lots of twists and turns, faster and faster through scarier and scarier neighborhoods. The countless hours training in my old Subaru paid off, the guy couldn't shake me. Several minutes of running amuck in low rent districts later he stops. I stop well back, hoping he hasn't decided it's time for the heavy artillery. He gets out and I'm ready to duck and floor it in reverse but he turns to run, VP's purse in hand. Macho instincts in high gear, I floor it. He heads across the corner sidewalk with me on his tail. I hit the curb, dodge a street sign and tag him. He goes down, arms flailing. I drive on past, not wanting to be stopped anywhere near him. He gets up (I'd only brushed him at best, he may have fallen on his own) and runs the other way. I get it in reverse and back after him but he heads off the road into some dark and scary woods. I get VP's keys out of the ignition and drive off in search of an occupied house for a phone.
Around the corner I find someone unloading groceries and he lets me use the phone. I call Dottie's first and tell a hysterical VP that I got her car back but not the purse. "Just get back here." she says, voice shaking. Yeah, I'm starting to shake too, now that it's sinking in. I call 911. I tell the operator the story and that I've got to go to Dottie's to get VP. The homeowner leads me back to the highway.
At Dottie's a very nice officer is taking the report. Eventually they get the address where I'd called from so we can find the car. It's right where I left it, parked somewhat askew next to those dark woods.
The officer sympathizes with VP's stolen purse situation, he'd had his pack stolen the day before. He says the robbery unit will be in touch to fingerprint the car. I know it'll be a while since my place has been broken into three times, twice in the last 6 months.
So, Mr. Clinton, if you can get your dick out of those interns long enough to pay attention, yeah the economy is doing great, if you're Bill Gates, but while you're patting yourself on the back someone else is patting me on the back and asking me to "give it up", at the point of a gun. Or three.
And no, I don't wish I was packing heat last night. I would've been outgunned three or four to one and it might have made me hesitate and think about it just long enough to get shot, instead of bolting the instant the heat came out.
It's been said that a liberal is just a conservative that hasn't been mugged yet. Well, I've had my car broken into more times than I can recall, my apartment burgled three times, and now carjacked at gunpoint. And I still say building schools is better than prisons, or bombs.
Thank you for your support.
"Screw that...I hope we catch em, so I can watch em hang!!!!"
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