Midtown Miscreant links to this story about robbers who wait for their bucket of KFC before fleeing. And the cop who fired 14, count them, 14 shots at two of the robbers and didn't hit shit. Here's MM's take on things. You should already be reading him on a regular basis anyway.
Now, I'll admit something here. When I worked at the alarm company I went out to a call one Saturday morning at an iron shop in a mix of houses and businesses. I saw the guy and pulled my gun. I was calm on the inside but couldn't get my hand to stop shaking. Beats the hell out of me why. Anyway, the guy faked me out and ran. I was running down 90th Av just like on tv, radioing a description while chasing this guy. Of course I couldn't catch him, and that was 80 pounds and 23 years ago. OPD pulls up, opens up the car door and says, "get the hell in the car." OK, I'm winded and am a couple of blocks away. The officer laughs and says, "don't worry, if we don't catch him this time we'll catch him doing something else."
On another Saturday morning, I responded to a Berkeley Unified school. I noticed the second floor window open and as I was checking the first floor doors I pulled one open. Hmmmm. I went inside and stood behind a pillar while I heard someone coming down the hallway. He opened up the door and when he got about 10 feet away I popped out and pointed my gun at him. He was shocked as hell and this time my hand wasn't shaking. He looked at the door, then at me. We're both thinking, "can (he) get to the door and escape before (I) shoot him?" I yell at him. "MAKE A DECISION!" Well, he does, as he lies down on the ground and I cuff him up and wait for BPD to come by and pick him up.
There's no feeling in the world quite like pointing a gun at someone with your finger on the trigger, ready to kill them if they do something stupid. I'm not saying I got a hard on for it or anything, or that it was good. It was just a powerful, unique feeling.
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