Gun Shots Fired, In Range (So what? Who Cares)?

Shots Fired, In Range

Camped out in the Northern Virginia swamp; I had just gotten there at about 10:00 p.m. I cranked up some music on my two Revolve+ II Bose Bluetooth Speakers which I had hanging from trees when none other than . . .Alexandria Police Officers started shining their flashlights from the edge of the forest.

I couldn’t hear them because of my music, but in between songs, I noticed they were calling out, telling me to come out of the Northern Virginia swamp.

So, I thought to myself, “The Alexandria Police Department is cool unlike nine out of ten police departments in America probably, so I’ll come out.”

“Are you going to give me a ticket for being in the forest?” I asked them, and I would have left by a back way if they had said ‘yes’.

“No.”

 The police in Alexandria, and in Fairfax County, and maybe in Arlington, Virginia are not allowed to come into the forests for a lot of good reasons.

1)       It’s been The Law since at least 1986 when I moved here from Southern and Northern Indiana.

2)       They could get poison ivy, poison oak, or stinging nettles (I only get the nettles).

3)       They could be bitten by bugs or by copperhead snakes.

4)       They could get tangled up in booby traps.

5)       There are no good reasons for them to be mucking around in forests.

6)       They can’t see in the dark like I can. And,

7)       Other reasons . . .

“OK, I’m coming out!” I yelled and charged through the underbrush.

“Put your hands in the air, there have been shots fired” a rosy-faced police man with a flashlight instructed as I made my way out of the forest.

Normally when you charge through the underbrush, you use your arms and hands for balance, but I put my hands in the “Touchdown” referee position and used high steps so I would be less likely to trip, and ran out at them, smiling.

“Sir, we need to search you because, as I said, shots were fired,” the little officer said.

“I bet there were  shots fired officer, but I don’t have anything to do with that.”

The three officers stood close together on the bike path lit up by park lights.

I stood there, like a target for a sniper as they checked me for weapons.

“You know? You guys, shots were fired you said, but like, the four of you are huddled here on the sidewalk, frisking me,” I said, “A shooter could take out all four of you with two shots, couldn’t they?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” The little police officer who I had never seen before said reminding me of Mighty Mouse, which made me laugh because his gun was like some cheap Saturday Night Special or some bullshit the Alexandria, Police Department issues.

“I’ve never seen you guys,” I said, although I had seen the taller of the three who had black hair, and was the only smart one, “I’m just out here in the forest celebrating because I bought a brand-new car with a ten-year, 100,000-mile warranty on it today.”

“Oh, we’re from The West, that’s why you have never seen us,” the rosy-faced officer with the tiny gun said.  

It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about—oh they are from the West side of a city, Alexandria City.

I told them that Virginia car dealerships would all only give people rebates if a buyer financed the car by taking out a loan, but I finally found one that gave the rebate on the 2025 car if I paid for it up front with no loan.

I was like, “Yeah, those other dealerships kept saying, ‘oh I agree with you, buying the car outright should be cheaper, but it’s not. That’s just not the way it is’.”

 The other dealers I talked to were like, ‘So here’s what you do--take out a loan you don’t need for three months, no make it four months just to be safe, and then pay it back after 4 months, and you get the rebate.”

The other car dealers were like, “Dude, mon’, you will never find anyone who will ever give you the rebate unless you finance the car. . .”

Click. Click. Click. I hung up on all of them.

So anyway, I was giving the three police officers financial advice about cars as the little West Side officer with the flashlight and the tiny gun continued to search me for weapons, and the four of us stood there, waiting to get shot.

(I had heard the gunshots also, and I knew this guy’s Special Police Department Issue gun might as well be a slingshot).

“Ok, I have to go back in the forest where my speakers are, and all my stuff is. Do I have to then leave the area?” I asked them.

“No, you can stay.”

“What?”

“You can stay.”

So, I returned to the marsh.

This is the car I bought, without taking out a loan, I keep telling my Muslim friends about the auto-dealerships chicanery. They might agree with me on that.