Wednesday, March 02, 2005


I was in the hardware store of my neighborhood, a small store with no space but lots of stuff piling on every direction.
There are 3 people in the store when I enter. The owner, Todd, is talking to a costumer about the product he is about to buy. One guy walks out almost as soon as I enter. I hear Todd saying "Excuse me sir, can I see your pockets?"
The guy turns around. He is a middle aged black man with a strong Hispanic accent. "No" he says. Todd is now right in front of him and telling him "I saw you put the locks in your pockets, I want to see your pockets." The man protests and takes out some medicine boxes from his
right pocket. "The other pocket", Todd insists.
"No, no" the man says and shrugging off Todd, he leaves. His left hand is still in the pocket of his bulky jacket. Todd dialing the police furiously, giving the description of the man to the operator, describing where he is going. He has left the shop and had left us, the three remaining costumers by ourselves. I can hear him talk on the other side of the entrance door "Well, by that time, he'll be gone already! Thank you." He hangs up and comes back inside, apologizing for the incident. As soon as he is back in, a policeman shows us at the door "Scott!" Todd cries while rushing out again. Scott is soon on his way to catch the man.
When he comes back empty-handed a couple of minutes later, I hear them discussing the guy. Todd knows him. He has seen him in the neighborhood a couple of time. Always drunk. He says "I should get a picture of him next time he comes, so he knows he is not welcome here." A picture! Like a favorite relative.


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