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1990 Paddy Wagon


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Greetings All-

The story I am about to relate is true. So I leave the office

yesterday at the end of the workday. Car is on the 4th floor of the

city parking deck. Arrive at car. Windows steamed/frosted up.

Odd, but not that odd. Get in car. Notice dirty snow on front seat,

broken custom-mounted Spillmaster Euro Junior coffee mug holder

(now I'm really bummed), and my screwdriver and sunglasses on

the floor. Really odd. Must have been ripped off, says I. Better

check my tool box, custom bungee-corded into the back section of

my 1990 Loyale wagon with 186,865 miles, to see if the perp made

off with my tools. Open rear gate. A male human head pops out

from underneath the blanket that I keep in the car. Using my best

Barney Fife imitation, I say "What in the heck are you doing buddy?"

He says, "Just trying to stay warm." I say, well that's fine, but how

about getting out of my car. He swings his legs out, which I now

notice have chains around his ankles. He's dressed in jeans and a

sweatshirt (it's about 0 degrees F.). At this point, I ask him what

he's hiding under his sweatshirt. He removes his hands, which are

connected to one another with handcuffs. He asks if he can have

my blanket. I say no, but I'll be happy to give you a lift to the police

station. He politely declines, then asks if I could take him to a

"friend's house." I say no, I don't think we'll be doing that. I then

tried my "prison ministry" thing on him (e.g. you really should do the

right thing and turn yourself in). He seemed somewhat moved by

this, but elected to shuffle off as hurriedly as a chained man can

shuffle. I then returned to the office and notified the authorities. My

daughter and I later went to the Wal*Mart and found a perfect

replica of my Spillmaster Euro Junior ($3.79 and made in America),

and the repair has been completed. For the rest of the story, Google the Rutland Herald newspaper (Vermont). See the lead news article headlined something like "Man Escapes Through Courthouse Window".

When you get to the part that mentions that police think that the

fugitive sought refuge in a parked car, that's me.

 

Bill

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I'm quite fond of telling what I call 'crime stories', but that is better than any I have. The closest tales I have are when my apartment neighbor found a junkie sleeping on my hood, and I came out to find a big grease spot on my windshield. And the time some derelict looking guy decided to take a nap under the tree in our front yard. I tossed a firecracker out the window in his general direction and he jumped up and walked away real fast.

 

- James B

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If this keeps up it'll have to get moved to "Off-Topic".

 

When I lived in Kailua-Kona I had a pad right on the beach for a while. My sign shop was right next door and one day I ducked into the apt to grab something and heard the shower running. I grabbed my black powder pistol, which wasn't loaded and snatched the bathroom door open. There was this wel-known local 'lolo' (crazy person) standin with my bathrobe half on.

 

I stuck the barrel against his forehead, pulled the hammer back (click), and told him to sit on the toilet and not even think about moving, and he sat right down. I walked back to my shop and called the cops, and after about fifteen minutes two officers got there.

 

When I explained the situation one stood by the door and the other entered the bathroom and started laughing. The outside cop says "Well, whatya got in there?" and he replies "I got crazy Kimo sitting naked on a toilet seat with one arm in a bathrobe".

 

They asked if they could use the bathrobe and I said not unless they were taking it as evidence, so they cuffed him and walked him naked through the complex to the car out on the street.

 

Next night, I ran into him in a bar, so I bought a beer and gave it to him and said "Hey, Kimo, no hard feelings brah, but the next time I catching you in my apartment I'm gonna blow your brains out and THEN call the cops, OK?"

 

Never saw him again, but a few days later one of the cops came by and asked if I knew why Kimo had finally moved back to his family home on Maui (or was it Kauai?).

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