The eyes have it.
Time to Settle Accounts
January 2, 2013: The eyes have it.
“I said, ‘Buddy! I’m gonna shoot you in the face if you don’t put your hands on the fuckin’ dash!’”
“You ever meet someone, and you get this creepy feeling in your gut where you think they might have killed somebody?” MJ asked once we were both up this morning.
“Did this happen to you?”
“Last night,” he said as I packed a bowl, “right over here at the 7-11.”
“Okay.”
“It was around midnight, and I was heading in to get some gum. The only people there were four cops and the guy behind the counter.” I ripped the bowl and then passed it to him, and he did the same, exhaled, and continued. “Three of the cops were young, maybe in their 20s, but this fourth guy was probably in his upper 30s or early 40s. Big dude. And when I walk in this guy’s screaming at the dude behind the counter, some awful stuff too. Talking bout, ‘You want me to unload two hot ones in the back of your skull?’”
“Holy hell.”
“I know. But they all started laughing, the guy too, and I guess the big cop was just telling a story about something that had happened with him on the job. He was a maniac. Super fired up. Said the word ‘cocksucker’ a bunch. I was probably only in there two minutes, and I must have heard him say ‘cocksucker’ six times. ‘I told that cocksucker to get down, to shut up before I stomp him.’ And everyone was laughing.”
“Damn,” I said. I took another big hit, careful as always to corner the bowl, and MJ hit it again too.
“We looked at each other when I walked in,” he said, “and he kind of glanced at me with a ‘Whatever, this kid doesn’t give a fuck’ look, and then started yelling at the counter guy. You could just tell from making eye contact that he had this evil power-confidence thing happening. If I was blind and I’d walked in there, I would have thought there were a bunch of gangsters talking shit at 7-11.”
“It’s just like Reservoir Dogs,” I said. “Weird.”
“I just wanted to leave as soon as possible,” he said as I took another hit. “I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t high, I wasn’t doing anything, I had no reason to worry about him as a cop beyond just not liking being around cops, but there was something about him that just gave me the chills.”
He took another hit, opened the window, and cashed out the bowl. “Just scary.”
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NEXT: Protest too much. (2.1.13)
PREVIOUS: Because it’s cold out there. (1.1.13)
On this date, 2012: Keep it to yourself.
On this date, 2011: A car in every garage, a trophy on every mantle.
Also, from July 11, 2008, a very different story about police officers in that same 7-11
[...] The eyes have it. [...]
[...] The eyes have it. [...]