Wednesday, July 13, 2016

I'm Not a Cop

In the last couple of weeks I've had several incidents involving gun play.

The first one was at breakfast after the club. It involved a cheating dope-boy and his crazy wife.
By the time the husband (who had been drinking at my club) showed up at the Waffle House the wife had her pistol drawn and began to shoot. The parking lot emptied as I directed each person to go home in different cars before the po-po showed up.
As a waitress ran inside to call the cops while telling me to run - 'Oh, they won't shoot me.', I replied.
The couple left about thirty seconds before the police arrived.
By the time the officers came into the restaurant to question the employees I had begun to eat.
 'No, sir. They'll be fine. I sent them home.', I said to the policeman.
He asked if I knew them and I told him that I just see them around and didn't want to see anyone going to jail that night.

The next night a family celebrating a wedding got into a heated argument after the club.
As I walked to the parking lot to see what was happening, 'John, come stand by me. Even you're not bulletproof.', a monster (A street king's enforcer) said to me.
As the fighting got closer and more guns were being pulled, 'Did you at least have fun tonight?', I asked the bride.
She stopped and thanked me as her family came over to thank me as well.
I told them to get home safely and to come back again.
They gathered their family and left.

The last incident I had to ask a guy to hand me his gun as he was about to shoot another.
'Hey man, don't do that here. Let me get that.', I said.
I took (Well, 'received') his gun and handed it to his cousin.
'Nah, you're good. Just don't do that here.', I said as he was being loaded into a car.
All he said was, 'I'm sorry Mr John - I respect your spot.'.
The po-po rolled up about a minute later.
'I heard you almost got shot eating breakfast.', the officer said to me as patrons were trying to hide whatever they had to hide.
'Yeah, well.... That's the club life.', I replied.
The officer made small talk, nodded towards guys trying to hide whatever they may have had, shook my hand, asked if I was alright then left.

Was I scared?
Ummm, no. Not till after the fact.
But I knew it was just easier to de-escalate a situation than it was to take over.
Sure, I usually have guns trained on my surroundings when ever I exit the club (and sometimes by not the most honorable of men) but a gun is not always necessary when faced with a gun.
Police officers have a whole belt full of tools - the lethal use of a gun should never be his first option.


brohammas said...

This post is so very Texas.

John Kurman said...

I think everyone is too fucking freaked out, fixated, and fetishized by these guns. Sure, guns are a problem, but the brains is far, far worse of a problem. These crazy big brains are getting themselves into all sorts of shit they are not really designed to handle.

You know, in the 1790s, America had a gun problem. There weren't enough guns. then along come s the Industrial Revolution.

Maybe one thing to do, is to back to craft guns. You know, like craft beer. No more mass-manufactured guns for the masses. Maybe that'll settle some of the shit down, as people admire (or denigrate) each other's well-crafted (or not) firearms.

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