February 09, 2006
Computers, Work, and Guns
Let's state the obvious, shall we?
I haven't updated in a while. But I've got good reasons, I swear. No, really.
First of all, I've been insanely slammed at work lately. As in, I've actually been so busy doing the things they pay me for, that I've been working through my lunch and my breaks, and staying at least an hour over when I'm supposed to. What kind of benefits am I receiving from this? Aside from a few "what else can you do?s", not much. I got to go out to lunch with Miss E today on the company, but I think that it was because it was her birthday. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
Please remember that I'm to lazy/broke/uninterested in getting off my ass to buy one/can borrow friends computers/use my parents to own my own computer. Pick your own reason from above, or make up one of your own. I'm sure it would be more interesting.
I usually have time to slam in a quick entry during lunch, but, like I've mentioned earlier, I've been doing other stuff during my lunch. And not regular lunch stuff like eating, smoking, searching the internet, either. I'm actually working. Oh, wait-I've already said that, haven't I? I'm quite frankly amazed that someone as super cool and efficient as I am actually hasn't been able to speed through all the work in enough time to, as the sophisticate people say, dick off. Either I'm slipping or the work load has drastically increased.
Since I'm not super tempted to say bad things about myself, I think I'll blame it on the workload.
When I HAVE had time to use a computer after work or otherwise, I've been busy burning a super awesome, awe inspiring, great tune filled Mystery CD for my buddy Loopy. This thing freaking rocks! Good thing that it's easy to make copies, or I'd have to make her another not quite as cool yet still pretty nifty one.
Other than that, strange events are happening almost every day. The freaky kind of events that most people, if they're lucky, only get the joy of experiencing every once in a while, if at all.
Hubby was held up at the liquor store right next to his work 2 or 3 Fridays ago. He had just closed up the place where he works, and went over there to grab his usual stash of lotto tickets and special smokes. Only he and the owner were in the store at the time. A teenager, maybe about 16 or 17, walked into the store, looked around, and then walked back out.
About 2 minutes later, 2 other kids about the same age, approximately 5"6' tall, wearing bandanas, and wielding .9mm guns stormed into the place. They took one look at my 6'4" Hubby, and told him "Get down on the ground, Man. Don't make me want to shoot you more than I already do".
Needless to say, Hubby handled it much better. Whereas I would've most likely crapped my pants, he complied, and got down on the floor. (He told me later that his first thought was "I just want to be home right now with my kitties and my wife." My thought to hearing that was "Wait a minute...I'm second?!?" but that's just because I'm a self-centered egomaniac)
The two guys apparently knew what they were doing. They knew how the cameras were set up, and, other than the cameras getting a quick shot of them walking in the door, made sure to stand in the exact spots where the cameras weren't aimed. The police said that they must have cased the place out several times before. That is a creepy thought, because that then implies that any one of us have had the chance of seeing them at least once or twice before this robbery happened.
They didn't take anything from Hubby, but made away with about $2000 in cash. The way I look at it is, if someone's holding you up, you let them take your money, wallet, whatever they want. All those things are replaceable. If you put up a fight or try to be a big hero, then they take your life. You can't get your life back once it's gone.
Am I right?
So, needless to say, it was a freaky incident for both of us, especially Hubby. He did handle it quite well, being the balanced and rather undramatic type.
A night or so after that, the police called and said that they thought that they had caught the guys, and asked Hubby to go and identify them. Of course, he said yes, and the cop said he'd be by to pick him up in a little bit. After an hour goes by, he calls and says that he'll have to do it some other time, as "something came up". It turns out that the guys that they thought they had were actually in the same shopping center, but were logged at a different store at the exact same time buying eggs. No, they weren't cooking fanatics, they were teenagers egging houses. Still, quite a bit less violent than robbery.
A short while after that happened, we see a bunch of flashing police lights almost right outside our house. Six police cars had obviously been following a car for a while, and then pulled them over directly in front of the house next door. This was about 1 AM. They don't just quietly go up to the car and ask them to get out, or pull the "do you realize how fast you were going?" manuver.
Oh, no.
Instead, they get on the bullhorn and start helpfully shouting instructions like, "Step out of the car. Put your hands on your head. (repeat twice for dramatic effect, and because it's freaking 1 in the morning and some people may still actually be still sleeping) (repeat in Spanish a few times because, well obviously, no one seems to be complying and stepping out of the damn car) "Look to the right. Don't look at me. (?!!?!? I don't know either, but the cop actually said that.) Take three steps to the right." You know, that kind of thing. We gathered that there were two people in the car, because, after going through that whole rigamarole, the cop then repeated himself, but added at the beginning of the second repition "now, you, in the passenger seat". Hey, I told you I was observant!
Since they were basically out in front of our house, Hubby and I tiptoed out the back. Why we tiptoed, I have no idea since no one could see us, and didn't give a shit what we were doing, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time.
Turns out, after about 45 minutes of this, that the cops finally took out a crowbar and jacked open the suspect's trunk. Inside, they found an assload of crack, and a bunch of (yep, you guessed it!) .9mm guns.
Hubby went from calm to freaked out in .000003897 seconds. Who can blame the guy, really? He started asking me if I thought for any reason that the guys who held him up a couple of days before (who, I just want to remind you, did NOT take his wallet and therefore had no idea who he was or where he lived) had been driving over to kick our ass for talking to the cops. I had to mention that they couldn't have received the information from the police report because a) they hadn't been caught and b) Cops don't usually give out the name and address of the person that helped them capture the lawbreaker to the guilty party.
Of course, it seems so obvious to me, but that's because I didn't have to go through the stress, fear, and massive fucked-up-ness that he did.
This kind of shit can do really strange things to you.
Of course, since then, we've both had nightmares of getting shot, but things seem to be getting back to normal. And that's a really good thing!
Ok, that's all you're getting from me today. Sorry it's short, but you sure as hell gotta admit that it's been interesing, eh?
~Toodles!
clipchick at 5:10 p.m.
All thoughts, ideas, and musings are � Clipchick. Please don't snipe my stuff!
Free Hit Counter