tim!: Get up, get, get, get down, Late 911 wears the late crown 2003 Last week a bullet of some sort came through the front window, through the closet wall, making its way into my bedroom and finally landing on the floor right in front of my bed. This is a little disheartening. I'm not moving, f*ck that. The bullet in question came through the upper-left corner of the window. Upper-left if you are looking from the outside in. Once I realized that as I lay in bed, my dear precious head is aligned with the lower-right corner of the window (outside looking in), and that if that bullet had had a different trajectory, things might be different. But this all happened while I was out. Now staying up and out until 4AM isn't just for fun anymore, it's a matter of life and death.
The morning I discovered that the chipped paint and plaster on the wall was just the last in a series of holes, I called 911. I called 911 because I don't know the number for the police. The 911 operator asked if for me to state the nature of my emergency. I said, this is not an emergency, but I do have a bullet on my floor in my bedroom that wasn't there before. Two police officers arrived in different cars, one a regular Joe-cop, and one a crime scene investigator.
All of those crime shows are unrealistic, in case you didn't know. The cop who was investigating the scene was not wearing gloves and ended up putting the bullet in his pocket. I'm surprised he didn't accidentally eat it. I didn't expect CSI, but at least a little Columbo would have been nice. You know, ask me a line of questions as if I were the perpetrator, and then just when I think I've gotten away with it, ask me another stupid little inconsequential tidbit of a question that ties it all together and proves my guilt. I am moderately embarrassed that I know CSI enough to reference it here, but that David Caruso fellow is just so good, and what after that ballsy/stupid early departure from NYPD Blue after only one season. Well, I just thought that was it for him. I think a lot of us thought that. The King of New York? Yes please.
Then the police make their way outside and do a half-assed search for the shell casing. Cop #2 said something about a needle in a haystack. Cop #1 said they get so many calls about gunshots per night that it's hard to keep up. I may have made up what Cop #1 just said, but it was close to that. I wished for a scene similar to the scene in The Big Lebowski, where Jeff Lebowski (aka The Dude) is finally reunited with his car after it was found by police. He asks if they have any leads on the robbers. The police officer starts to cry he is laughing so hard. It's a pretty good movie, but it's no King of New York. Have I mentioned my Victor Argo sighting? I am 97% sure that I saw Victor Argo on a subway train, elevated, on the way from somewhere in NYC to the John F. Kennedy International airport. He was dressed in plain ordinary non-star clothes and was reading a copy of USA Today. He may have been wearing a Member's Only jacket. I think I should have jumped on his back, but I also think I would have been beaten down for my trouble. He's no slouch.
This was a random shot. It was strange how the bullet passed through the house at almost a perfect level. It didn't hit the ceiling or the floor. But since the shot was high up on the window, which is on a porch of sorts, the person who shot the gun would almost have to have been standing in the back of a pickup truck to get to that angle.
Dear shooter, gentle shooter. I would like to remove each of your fingernails with a pair of pliers, and then soak your bloody fingertips in lemon juice followed by alcohol followed by a few moments in a pair of gloves that have been stuffed with chunks of glass and then hit with a hammer so that the chunks of glass are all tiny and slivery and can find their way easily into hard-to-reach places, like say for instance, your nail beds. And then of course we'll let all that heal up nicely, so that the glass shards will be permanently underneath of your new nails and each time you try to pick your nose, use a fork or let alone squeeze a trigger, the pain you experience will be unique and yours to treasure.
