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November 02, 2002
NYPD Special Forces

Before breakfast there were many cases of budweiser on the sidewalk, just like that, outside of the closed bar. After breakfast there was the Police special forces truck there, parked against traffic on broadway and 100th street. Police was keeping the masses of pedestrians out of trouble. They were these sly overweight women in tightly fitting black uniforms, staring in a very boring way, their bodies in a classing pose, resting on one leg, one leg scratching the dust of broadway. There were two ambulances too. The s spinning, no sound.
Then there were the special forces police people. They had heavy armor on, shields with tiny slits to look through. Very heavy looking helmets. All in a anthrazit color. POLICE on the back of their bullet proof jackets. They were ready to storm into the bar. I was ready for bullets to fly, or maybe for some gas to just kill us all in seconds. The sun was shining in my face, I could not take any pictures. There was somebody filming the whole action. These people were pros. They could have used dynamite to explode the door. They used electric metal saws to cut right through the gates in the windows. Four heavily armed policemen then crawled through the open window into the bar. “It is a hostage situation”, one of the bystanders said. And we both knew it was not true. “A mass suicide.” no way. The troops soon emerged out of the window. Shields down, their serious faces showed relief. The women in black uniforms stepped aside and the bravest of the pedestrians rushed forward to touch the shields and the helmets. The boys were ready to pack their stuff. The owner of the bar put box after box inside of the bar, through the open window. The crowd just walked on, as if nothing had happened. “What it is all over?, and I just called New York One.” The ladies on the corner knew exactly what had happened. The owner of the bar came to open the joint for the evening. The place was not only locked, it was dead bolted from the inside. This looked like a suicide, or maybe hostage situation, a terrorist attack? Police was there to help, they really expected the worst. They broke into the bar and there was nobody inside. And New York Life goes on. It was as if nothing happened. Well, nothing really happened indeed. I am quite glad that “nothing” happened.

Comments

Sounds like a fun place to live! Really! Nothing happens here (but there was a 200 car pileup on a nearby freeway today!) I love your town!!!!!

Posted by: Pat on November 4, 2002 01:33 AM
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