I’ve chronicled my conversations with LEOs from multiple left coast cities in past posts. I’ve told the story of the burglar intervention, and how nobody is coming. For the latest chapter, I am displeased to report that a violent EDP started threatening people in one of chez Totem’s favorite restaurants—including throwing metal bar chairs around, mid-rant. This happened literally right before myself and the Mrs arrived for a late dinner. The barroom manager—who is a friend—was pretty unhappy about the whole event, in particular the fact that the lone front of house server had been in the kitchen on the phone trying crime check, the business line, and especially
911; all went direct to voicemail/messaging, over and over.
This was the moment that an entire restaurant full, in a reasonably affluent part of town, discovered that nobody is coming.
When our buddy got to the part about hitting a voicemail wall, I could feel Mrs T giving me the sideways glance, subtly letting me know in the way that only long-term partners can: “Ok, I get it, you’re not paranoid when you’re always saying that we are on our own, and that the burglar guy wasn’t just a fluke…”
To be fair, I’m sure it gets old hearing me carp on the theme “nobody is coming; better be prepared,” but that doesn’t change the veracity of the statement.
I still love where I live, don’t get me wrong. I’m just disappointed that random portals into the shithole universe seem to be opening up with increasing regularity, mostly courtesy of our city council, with assistance from the state legislature and Governor.
Carry on.