Don't leave home without one.
OH, you said California!
nevermind
Posted on 02/07/2015 6:37:33 AM PST by servo1969
I did something last week that I rarely do: I went out after dark. I don’t like to do this. This area is too creepy crawly during the day, much less at night. But supplies were low, and I wasn’t sure when I’d get another chance to go food shopping.
And I thought to myself, “Maybe you’re exaggerating all of this: the crime, the filth, the general insanity. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.” So, like a small child testing the waters, I thought I’d stick my toe in the after-hours scene.
It was about 7:30 pm when I made the trek over to a local food store. I arrived there, exited the car — all in one piece! I entered, shopped, and even returned to my car intact. I felt elated, triumphant, like one of those Olympic athletes who just won a gold medal. I had actually escaped aggressive panhandlers, criminals, and the certifiable insane to secure my milk and eggs!
Emboldened and giddy, I thought, “Maybe I can take this one step further. Maybe I can successfully make it in and out of the Walgreen’s! Maybe — gasp — I can even have a life!” Flush with the joy of my Olympic-style victory, I headed down the block to the pharmacy chain store.
And that’s when it happened.
All was well while I picked up some moisturizer and soap and headed over to the check-out line. I stood confidentially on the queue, euphoric about being able to do something so normal, something people do all over this great nation.
Suddenly, right outside the glass windows, someone started screaming at the top of his lungs, while someone else screamed back. Then there was cursing and throwing things, with several men looking maniacal and out of control.
Frightened, I looked at the cashier. He paused, took in the scene, looked back at me and shrugged his shoulders. Then he continued processing my order.
I stared at the chaotic happenings. Things quieted down for a minute or so, and I finally took a deep breath. And then the yelling started up again. Frozen now in fear, I stared outside the glass window, trying to discern what was happening and, even more pressing, what was going to happen.
There was that familiar, disturbing uncertainty, something that I’ve experienced many times before. What is going to happen next? Are they going to come in? Are they going to rob us, attack us, create store-wide pandemonium — or worse? And how am I going to get back safely to my car?
I suggested to the cashier that he call the police. He gave me that bored and I’ve-seen-it-all look, and said, “If it keeps up, I’ll do that.” The commotion died down and the cashier and I completed the money exchange. Then I told him that I was afraid to walk to my car alone and needed someone to come with me.
He paged the supervisor and a few minutes later, a tough-looking dude came out to escort me. We walked outside and there were several vagrants out there, though it was hard to tell whether they were part of the street fighting or just housing themselves on the sidewalk. I kept my eyes firmly on my surroundings, as I got in my car quickly and drove away.
Just at that moment, a police car with its sirens blaring sped through the parking lot looking for whatever was going on, which I’ll never know. Obviously, the miscreants took their mayhem elsewhere, triggering someone to call the police. As I drove out of the parking lot, I said out loud to God, “Just for the record, I hate it here. Just so you know.”
Now let me clarify this: what I’ve described — the social unrest, violence, terror — happens around here all the time, on a practically minute-to-minute basis. And this is an area where people brag incessantly about how fortunate they are to live here: how lucky they are to pay 3 grand a month to rent a tiny cottage in a marginal area, where cars are broken in to on a regular basis, and children attend some of the worst schools in the United States. Gentle readers: I appeal to you; can you understand why it is like living among programmed Stepford people to reside around here?
For me, my never-to-be-repeated late night sojourn only reinforces what I knew to begin with: that this is a terrible — I repeat — a terrible area in which to live. But for the multitudes, the danger of my late night outing was no big deal, simply Another Day in Paradise, we being the luckiest people on earth.
At least so Preezy Obola tells us.
I don’t believe Robin would feel safe anywhere.
Lived in SoCal for nearly 20 years, in a safer outlying area. I still didn’t go out by myself at night. Life is cheap in the Socialist State of California. I was acquaintanced with three people who were murdered........never in my upbringing did I think I would ever say something like that. I am still not over my wariness of strangers. Probably never will be.
This whole article is an outright lie. We have a Democrat President and California has a Democrat Governor. There are no homeless people in California.
Liberals becoming acquainted with the consequences of liberalism. Pardon me while I grab my tiny violin.
I don’t go out at night as a rule and I live in Eastern Kansas in a pretty nice neighborhood. If I have to be out to go pick up my meds or get milk and Mr. M won’t go, I use street smarts. I’m not sure where I got them but so far I’ve been okay.
Robin, you can move to Kansas City and it’s suburbs. We don’t have the weather, the cost of living or the crime. Two outta three ain’t bad!
One common thread among whites who live there - they have almost universally been propagandized into believing that safe, suburban areas are hotbeds of racism and intolerance, complete with "God Hates Fags" billboards, weekly cross-burnings on your lawn and front-yard shooting competitions that kill twenty or so innocent bystanders a week. They feel they are "so lucky" to live in an island of tolerance and diversity like Berkeley that they would never even consider leaving - and thus become easy prey for the homeless scammers and black thugs from Richmond that Berkeley attracts in droves.
Robin left out the most pertinent points: What age, color (ethnicity?) and education of these people who made her “uncomfortable”. Drug addicts? Thank the progs. Homeless? Thank the progs. Mentally ill? Thank the progs. Hard core criminals? Thank the progs. We are, or have, progressed into feral people through PC “progressivism.
Whenever I sojourn among the perfect voter groups my sacrificial wallet contains only photocopies of everything...
...and bills in smalls denominations.
I agree with you.
As for her closing part about her ‘late night sojourn’, it was 7:30 according to the article. Not late night IMO.
Considering what the devious Christians are prepared to do to you in the name of Christ, you are living in Disney Land, donchaknow? :p
The melee witnessed by this by poor woman were clearly caused by Christian Crusaders.
Robin, if you lived in America, you could at least go out at night knowing that you had, cocked and loaded and securely in your pocket, the means to take out 2 or 3 of the crazies before they got to you. I will never willingly live in a place where the government insists that I be defenseless.
Without knowing many details, I and a lot of Dear Leader’s followers just “know” that this was a bunch of Tea Party Christians practicing for this century’s Crusades...
I don't either.
The Mojave rattlesnakes are nocturnal.
Well, there are a lot of places she could move but you just have to watch your back. There are a lot of homeless/vagrants here in Reno and you just have to know where to go and where not to go. In any case, Robin, you need to make the call and get the hell out of berzerklee.
Heh, heh. I guess them Crusaders and Inquisitioners got tired of the Amish having all the fun beheading people and overturning cars and looting hair salons and whatnot.
Don't leave home without one.
OH, you said California!
nevermind
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