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Sunday, March 06, 2011

Shine On, Shine On, Silvery Moon


by James Jarvis
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.
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