Saturday was interesting.
During the day I had a gun pulled on me, and at night I was confronted by the mob.
During the day I had a gun pulled on me, and at night I was confronted by the mob.
I like to feed the birds, and one of the best places to buy birdseed on the cheap is Walmart.
So on Saturday I went there, got my stuff, and left the building.
I was in the parking lot driving out when the car in front of me just stopped.
After about 30 seconds of that I honked at them a few times. The woman in the passenger seat waved that it was the truck in front of them that wasn’t moving.
Sure enough, this truck was just sitting there ahead of us...like it just backed out of a spot but was not...just sitting there.
The truck had a disabled veteran plate and there were numerous Trump stickers on the back window.
I got out of my car and walked up to this truck to figure out what was going on.
“Sir, we’re trying to leave the parking lot, would you please move,” I said.
I was greeted with a small handgun as the man told me to stop honking.
“Oh, so you’re going to wave a gun in my face?” I replied.
I can’t remember what he said to that, but I did threaten to call the cops on him and again repeated that all I wanted to do was leave the parking lot. I walked back to my car, and after sitting there for another 30 seconds or so, the man finally drove off.
Incident averted.
It’s become commonplace for service industry workers, young folks, and just about anyone else that’s downtown at the new bar close time of 12:30 to meet at the outside tables in front of the Iron Horse to drink.
The cops don’t mind.
Sometimes we’ll see them drive by, but they never stop.
I wished they would have on Saturday night/Sunday morning.
I had just gotten off work and had cracked my first beer and was shooting the breeze with some folks when from around the corner comes a cacophonous crowd of about fifteen young 20-somethings.
One of them was carrying a small street sign - no parking, I believe - which had been pulled up from the ground somewhere.
It was their trophy and they were carrying it to an awaiting truck.
I shouted out to this mob to stop, to put the sign down.
“I’m a taxpayer and I’ve got to pay for that damn sign to be replaced!” I yelled, but they were unperturbed.
“You know, if taxes go up your rent’s gonna go up too!” I tried again.
This time one of the mob’s young members confronted me. He was a young black man around the age of 18 to 21, by my estimate.
“We don’t care,” he said.
I frowned and shook my head and rolled my eyes. “You know, this ain’t Portland or Seattle,” I replied. “We don’t destroy our downtown here.”
He got in my face and started talking how long he’d lived here, that he was voting for Trump, and that he was sick of the protesters in those cities.
He wanted to engage me in a conversation about politics, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk with someone that was in the process of public vandalism, so I left.
People are on edge, incredibly so.
A powder keg with a lit match next to it - that’s what this country is right now.
Be careful out there.
