Drug Bust

March 6, my mother's birthday, 2013 started out as a chilly, but blindingly sunny, down coat day but by afternoon, ended up being a one layer deal. Such is the character of the fickle-minded lady called weather. My post-Sandy, repair and restore whatever you can mind-set had propelled me toward getting all the pent-up work around the house, in addition to the post-sandy work, also done, This was the reason for getting a room that had been neglected for a long time painted and spiffed up. One of the improvements to be made was getting a new carpet. The carpet installers were to come on the 7th. I knew that they would need a vacuum cleaner to vacuum the floor before re-carpeting it and then for vacuuming the new carpet. The self-propelling mechanism on my Hoover Upright was on the fritz and now it needed to be repaired urgently.

After some extensive research, I decided that it was worth getting the Hoover fixed rather than replacing it. I identified and called the authorized V&J repair shop in Rosedale and made an appointment for the 6^th morning. When I left for the shop with my vacuum I wore my down jacket and ski gloves to fight the freezing temperature outside. After I entrusting my sick vacuum with the owner Joe, when I came out of the store and walked toward my car I noticed a car with a handful of male passengers pull up on the wrong side of the road and a couple of men hop out. Instead of facing south on a south-bound lane, the car faced north. I was puzzled. Next thing, as I approached the street corner just a few steps away, I was face to face with a young, mustachioed, slightly built, African-American male and I heard the command "Hands up" from behind me. The man I was face-to-face with looked stunned. His hands going up, his saucer-eyed gaze was directed at the men behind me. I thought that this was some gang warfare and I was going to see bullets fly any second now, and I was going to get hit by one or more and that would be the end of me. My next thought was I must run for cover.  But which way do I run? Back toward the vacuum repair store or across the street and into another store? Where?  When might the bullets start flying? And from which direction will they come?

Just then, my eyes darted toward the cars parked close by on the side street. Almost grazing the guy in the corner who, eyebrows raised, stood speechless, I sprinted across and ducked behind a car even as the exchange between this young man and those who accosted him continued. But within a split second all was over. Gingerly, I raised my head from behind the car just enough to be able to get a grip on the latest situation. Things seemed to be under control.  Surrounded by those from the car on the wrong side of the road, the hunted down man looked trapped like a caged animal. Now I straightened up and tried gauging what my next move must be. Just then, pointing at me, one of the men from the car yelled, "Hey, you lady," even as his companion added, "she has nothing to do with him." Then he waved me away.

Heart pounding, as I resumed my stride toward my car, I saw the black guy being handcuffed by the plain clothes men who I presume were cops. Later that afternoon, when I returned to V&J, I shared this incident with the owner Joe. He responded that the corner was a favorite spot for drug peddlers. Other than that the area was supposedly safe. His store had been there for thirty years and there had never been any incident. I thanked my own lucky stars, collected my Hoover and returned home with the sunroof fully open and my down jacket on the passenger seat.

Ciao!