Snitching

There was a lot of police activity in the area yesterday. I could hear sirens going up and down the street for what sounded like every few minutes.

I thought it might be the result of possible insurrection having to do with folks upset over the latest shooting of an unarmed Black man ─ the one in Wisconsin.

And let me just say what I’ve said before ─ my unpopular opinion that instead of resisting, sometimes you’ve just got to go with the flow, suck it up, accept you’re going to be profiled, going to be treated differently, and just need to learn how to survive in that kind of atmosphere.

I’m glad the victim did not die ─ though I’ve read he might be paralyzed from the waist down. Glad because he now has time to think about the incident and how differently things would have turned out for him had he not been so foolish as to expect the cops would not do what they are prone to do when a Black person is involved. Had he not tried to show what a man he was by walking away and had just humbled himself, he’d have come out unscathed ─ emasculated as a man perhaps, his feelings hurt rather than seven bullets in his back ending in paralysis. Cops, and racists in general, love it when we play humble, contrite, stupid even (which is how I survived Corporate America), because it doesn't threaten their erroneous sense of superiority ─ which, when it is threatened is when they become dangerous, vindictive. Like I’ve said before ... it’s maddening, insulting, but you have to be smart, play that game in order to survive.

So, anyways, there were sirens off/on during the day and, at one point, a helicopter circling the complex.

I had just happened to open the door, heading out to drop the rent check in the mail when I simultaneously heard the helicopter circling the complex and saw a young guy, who obviously did not belong here, rushing through the quad, looking back, as though making sure he wasn’t being pursued.

He was so busy looking behind that he didn’t look up and notice I’d just opened the door and was stepping out, but it occurred to me that, if he was being pursued and saw me, he might run up the stairs and try to duck inside, so I got my pepper spray ready (I always have it in my hand ever since that pervert accosted me in the mail area). 

By the time I locked the door and made it to the bottom of the stairs, I saw the guy was running, headed towards the corner back of the complex. Realizing the helicopter was probably looking for him, I snitched.

Someone had once told me that the cameras on those helicopters are so good that they can make out every little thing on the ground so, when the chopper circled back to where I was standing, I pointed in the direction I saw the guy running.

I guess they saw me, because they stopped circling and headed in that direction.

Since I was outside, I took a look around to see if I could spot why so much police activity and saw a couple cop cars down the street, surrounding a car.

I’m guessing the guy escaped from whatever that situation was.

Later in the day, there were more sirens, but none that night.

Checking the local news online to ascertain if all that activity had anything to do with protests or looting, I found no mention at all. So, perhaps police activity in the area was preemptive ─ to prevent what happened after the last incident (the murder of George Floyd), to chase off people who even looked like they might be planning something.

We don’t get that kind of police presence in this area ─ they usually only come when called; so, if it was preemptive, I’m impressed.

I played a dirty trick on a new cashier at the market the other day.

We’ve got a lot of young newbies manning the cash registers. I overheard one asked, by a more seasoned cashier who appeared to be training the person, “How long have you been out of checking school?”

“Three days” was the reply.

How interesting, thought I. I didn’t know there was a school for that and, with only three days of training before assigned a store and a register, that’s a pretty quick turnaround. But it’s good to see people, who must and need to work, being able to work. Some of those young people may be supporting their entire family.

At any rate, a newbie casher held up one of my items and asked me, “What is this?”

“An ostrich egg”, replied I.

It wasn’t, of course, an ostrich egg, and I’ve no idea what made me say that it was ... where that reply came from. I was just being funny, and it took everything I had to lie with a straight face, until I saw the puzzled look on the young cashier’s face, whereupon I burst out laughing and fessed up to the item’s true identity.

Just out of curiosity ... is it just a young person’s thing not to know what this is, or are some of you reading this not able to name this item?