Pizza pick-up?

L

LASur5r

Moderator
Real story---
I went to a pizza parlor where the neighborhood was changing...nobody knew which way. It has improved a lot now.
I had called in a pizza pick up order so I had to park in the parking lot behind the pizza place, but you walk in this dimly lit pathway between the two buildings to come in the front door.
I pick up the pizza, I have a Government Model .45 inside my waistband on my right hip. I have a long sleeve flannel shirt on over it with the tail out.
I am carrying the pizza and am about five feet from the parking lot when a car without lights on comes up fast in front of me with the door already opening before it stops.
A young man jumps out and he starts to run towards me.
I keep the pizza between him and me in my left hand as I am getting ready to throw it at him as a diversion as I draw.
Young man sees the drawing motion and he immediately goes into the action of a baseball player sliding into base. Pizza drops and he does a 180 turn without stopping...pizza hits the ground and something else clatters on the sidewalk as the .45 clears the shirt tails.
I don't snick the safety off as he is already running towards the car. He jumps in and they take off.
Results? I think I lossed the speed contest because if he came up with the knife He could have beat my draw.
Pizza topping got mooshed to the lid.
I got a free knife (the object that clattered out of his grip)...I broke the blade from the handle and left it there...cheap switch blade.
Only thing I didn't put in this time...my wife and daughter was with me at the time. I stepped in the way of the slider on purpose....to shield them.

Comments anyone? Anyone? Suggestions?
 
You really should get into writing, LASur5er. You could make a comfortable living writing either fiction or nonfiction.

Speaking of which, check out this book ... reminded me of you:

"Volcano: A Memoir of Hawaii" by Garrett Hongo

Review From "Booklist"
Poet Hongo, a Japanese American born on Hawaii and raised in L.A., was estranged from his culture, his homeland, and his family history until he returned to his place of birth. The moment he arrives in the Hawaiian village of Volcano, he feels a bone-deep connection to the sublime lava landscape, the lavish vegetation, and the majestic clouds. And strangers know him by his face: he looks just like his father. He begins his quest for the truth about his past in nature, spending hours hiking and marveling at the island's beauty, but revelation arrives in a far more personal form: an aunt simply tells him the entire tangled saga of his paternal grandparents. The tale itself is startlingly dramatic, spiced with scandal, broken hearts, and abandoned children, but Hongo's compelling, candid, and lyrical manner of storytelling is the real draw. He uses his discoveries in Volcano as a springboard for an analysis of his life, from his youth in racially complex L.A. to his entry into the world of literature and his ongoing struggle with that bane of so many creative people, free-floating angst. Donna Seaman --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.
 
btw, LASur5er send me an email when you have time ... it's on my profile. Just in case the plug gets pulled on TFL again. You're the only one I know here without an email addy on the profile.
 
I listen to the scanner quite a bit, weather in my reloading room or on the way to work and I can't help but believe that this happens. To one certain person, now I think I would have to move.




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A son is the best friend you'll ever have!
 
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