I keep telling the 941 participants in the North Vent Facebook forum to drive around and rack up 911 calls and THAT is how you turn around the neighborhood so decent people can live in peace.
So night before last I was driving around for the specific purpose of making 911 calls and I saw a young man standing in front of the Kemps facility on West Broadway, right about where the "tripping cows" mural used to be before, thankfully, it was painted over. A visitor to the neighborhood wouldn't have noticed this young man, but to somebody who has been a resident for half a decade, now, it was apparent he didn't belong at that particular spot and was up to no good.
There's no bus stop at that location. There's no business entrance. It's not the kind of place where you tell your friends to come and meet you. And as I drove by, he made eye contact with me through the windshield and kind of jerked his head.
Oh, yeah, I thought, he's dealing...
Not only did I figure he was dealing, but worst of all he was trying to colonize a new spot for drug sales. Every now and then you see this kind of thing. Somebody picks a spot and stands there and tries to claim that real estate. And it's always a bad idea. If that was such a good spot for drug dealing, somebody would have already claimed that spot.
So I called 911, but I didn't know the street address. Thankfully, the 911 operator knew West Broadway by heart.
"You mean 420 West Broadway?" he asked.
"Yes, that sounds right, because it's right off 4th Street North," I told the operator, resisting the urge to make a pun about "420."
I pulled into a fast food parking lot across the street to watch the fun. Just as I pulled up, I saw two police officers leaving Wendy's with cups of coffee. They swung across the street, parked some distance away from the suspected drug dealer, and observed him for a while.
I should describe what this guy looked like. He looked like the infamous "bored shooter" Malo Gomez, currently incarcerated. For that matter, he looked like Malo's brother, Deshaunta Dmar Gomez. Since I'd called 911 on the guy, I decided that gave me the right to name him, like a stray cat. As the cops watched from their vehicle, and I watched from across the street, I decided this guy's name was "Malaunto Gomez."
After a while, the police pulled up and pinned this guy in their searchlight. Conversations took place, through the car window at first, then close up. This continued for a ridiculously long time. I figured the police were in some kind of "You can't leave, but you're not under arrest" situation. After about 25 minutes, I didn't know whether to feel bad for wasting the time of the police or to feel good, because the police obviously thought SOMETHING was up.
The young man walked three steps forward, then back to the wall. Then four steps forward, three back. He seemed to be dancing with the police car. How much leash do I have? How far can I go? If I leave, will you REALLY pursue?
The police car put its lights on and advanced a short ways with him and directed the suspect to stay put. And then the real fun started. The suspect appeared to be dancing. Twirling, like some kind of crackhead ballerina. He was increasingly unsteady upon his feet.
Then he laid flat upon the sidewalk. See photo below.
And twitched. Twitched like a cockroach.
I had been watching the whole time. The police never laid a hand upon him, except for a brief pat down to check for weapons.
After a while an ambulance showed up. That was when I figured my fun was over and it was time to leave. I mean, if an ambulance shows up the guy is leaving in an ambulance, right? The medics are not going to say, "OK, you're fine, continue to lay here on the sidewalk."
As I drove by, I could see the suspect had one hand thrust upward, fingers moving weakly, like he was trying to claw his way out of a casket. The policeman was saying something to the ambulance crew like, "He just started doing..."
That was all I caught as I drove by.
Based upon what I saw, observing the whole time...
I think this young man ingested something as the police pulled up, i.e., he swallowed whatever he was standing there trying to sell or whatever drugs he had in his possession for personal or communal usage.
And as the police kept him detained, whatever the hell he swallowed started working on his system until, finally...
Cracked out ballerina. Then a weakly flopping cockroach.
Poor Malaunto Gomez!
To think I could have just left well enough alone and NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED. Instead of driving around, I could have kept to myself, organized my rummage sale VHS collection or something. But that's not my style. I don't just drive around calling 911 because I want to change my neighborhood for the better. I do this because it's FUN.
But making a dealer swallow his own stash (maybe) and see him hit the sidewalk like an empty, crumpled pack of Newports...
Oh, my word. MOST 911 fun EVER!!!!!
I decided I would write this one up, post a link on North Vent, and say, "TOP THIS!!! And also be sure to take trophy pictures."