from Offline  Journal Of The Damned
  Tonight I got  pulled over by a dozen or so shotgun-wielding Los Angeles Sheriff's  Department deputies for walking on the sidewalk in front of Motel  Marquis' seedier sister motel, The El Camino.
I had  just bought a Ginger Beer and a pack of Bonus Value cigarettes from the  liquor store down the street from the motel and was walking back to my  upscale crack motel room when they descended upon me from all  directions, chambering rounds into their shotguns with loud, masculine  "click-clacks" and waving me over to the curb.
    My mind raced to recall what I could have done lately that they  would know about as other sheriff's cars came screeching sideways into  my vicinity. I was carrying a small paper bag with a little brown bottle  in it, but I doubted there was an active Mothers Against Drunk Walkers  working this area.
    A police helicopter arrived and shone it's huge Starbrite  searchlight down onto me, spotlighting me like a Las Vegas nightclub  act, so I immediately broke out into a poorly rehearsed rendition of  "Shine On, Silvery Moon."
     No really. I DID! I sang "Shine On, Silvery Moon." I don't know what had  gotten in to me. That was a stupid thing to do considering my audience  on that dark street were all armed and hopped up on adrenaline.
    The deputies ignored me, running past me like I wasn't even  there, so I did my Rodney Dangerfield impression, tugging at an  imaginary tie around my throat and declaring, "SHEESH! What a tough  crowd!"
    My two and a half minutes of fame were soon over as the  helicopter spotlight moved on to another target, but one deputy DID  notice me and told me to stay put. 
    The manager of the Marquis heard all the police commotion and  walked up the street to the front of the El Camino when he saw me  standing in a wave of gun waving cops on the sidewalk.
    "What'd they getcha for?" he joked when he got within earshot.
    "I don't know," I said, "but walking in front of the El Camino is  just getting too damned dangerous these days." 
    Turns out a 911 call had been placed for 'shots fired' and they  weren't looking for little brown paper sack carriers (or singers) at  all. No gun-tottin' felons were found and a good time was had by all.
Tags: south central, Los Angeles Sheriff's Department, ghetto life, life in the hood, El Camino Motel, Motel Marquis, Gardena, gun-totting felons, marquisdejolie
 

 
 
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