So there is this upscale shopping center down the street from me. Love it. We frequent it. A huge Borders, Victoria’s Secret, Sephora. For the kiddos, a store that specializes in educational toys, as well as a Children’s Place. It’s outdoors, so there are sitting areas that resemble sidewalk cafes every-stinkin’-where. Love it. Did I mention that I love it?
So outside of one of the stores in which I frequently shop (they have an excellent Coach selection and higher-end kids’ clothing to boot!), an old lady was kidnapped at gunpoint while trying to get into her car. He took her to a remote location after a joyride through Northern Kentucky/ Cincinnati in her 2001 Ford Taurus, stopping at ATMs along the way in attempts to drain her bank account that never came to fruition. At this remote location, he tied her to a tree. She is 74 years old. Seventy-fricken-four, ya’ll. She escaped because, well, the moron tied her to the tree with her own sweater. But he escaped with her car and cell phone. I woke up several times yesterday to a repeat of the story on the local news because they basically put out an APB on the car, complete with the plate number.
Fast forward about 24 hours later, and I am at work. Not at the campus of our hospital that is enmeshed in a neighborhood where the median salary is a healthy six figures, either. Nope. I am working the quasi-inner-city free-standing ER, where the majority of our patients are drug OD’s, drug seekers, assault victims, and idiots awaiting medical clearance for jail. Cops come and go from that place almost more than the patients and staff. At about 1 AM, there is a big commotion, and you can see dancing blue lights outside of every window. Turns out one of our security guards found the lady’s car parked right there in the parking lot. And they had about 8 cruisers out there, complete with the lights. The police officers were combing every inch of the lot when someone got the brilliant idea to pull the security tapes. Yep, he dropped the car off that same day. They were able to pinpoint a time he was there by the staff members he passed as he abandoned the Taurus. The exact time, as a matter of fact, because we have to swipe a badge to get in the door, and they can access that info, too. Big Brother even knows when I enter the friggin’ building.
First of all, why that lot? Where cops come and go? And the ’01 Taurus? Really? Not that there is anything wrong with the car, but I know the area where this occurred, and I am sure it was surrounded by upper-crust imports of the German persuasion. I feel like I am being stared at when I park there in my new-ish Dodge. As in, “Who told the poor girl she can shop here?”. And we all know that nothing screams “Rob-me-I’m-friggin’-loaded” like a Ford Taurus that is 9 years old, driven by a social security recipient. Of course the doucher didn’t get a dime. Grandma spent all of her money in the store. He probably got a new sweatshirt with a fugly applique afixed to the chest, but that’s about it. And then let’s drive it to an ER parking lot. In a bad neighborghood where cops crawl the property. And not even attempt to take the plates off or even conceal the license plate number. And then flee on foot, right underneath the security cameras. Moron.
But is he?
What about the cops who come and go? Or the Feds who come for out-of-state sexual assault victims? The car was parked right there. For over 24 hours. And it took one of our security guys to find out and call the police.
So today, I was watching out on the news throughout the day to see if they mentioned us during any of the broadcasts. And they did, but when they gave a description on the morning broadcast, they described the guys height, weight, and clothing. And then added, “The suspect is described as HAVING BUCK TEETH and BUG EYES.” Oh. My. God. You have got to be shittin’ me. Really? Did they just describe that on tv?
And then it gets better: John woke me at noon, about to pee his pants in laughter, because on the noon news, they included a police sketch of the suspect. I missed it and so had to look at the channel’s website to see it. And I see this:
And then there were the comments after the story on the website:
“I hear dueling banjos!”
“The hills have eyes.”
And my personal fave: “Squeal like a pig, boy!”
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a gazillion times. I couldn’t make this crap up if I tried.