My friend John had just got back into town from a vacation in Detroit. He was driving home from work. He works nights, so it was well after twelve o’clock. He had just picked up a twelve pack of beer at a local liquor store. He was almost home when he encountered a mob of unruly Mexicans teenagers. The kids jumped in front of his car and tried to impede his progress. The kids weren’t angry, but rather, they tried to intimidate John by dancing in front of him. They were like young dancing bears jumping about. One of the kids, the ringleader, had his arms up near his head with his fingers pointing toward the sky. He was hopping and rocking his arms back and forth while looking at John mockingly.
“Okay,” John said.
He wasn’t amused.
He wasn’t amused.
John managed to get by the kids without incident. He parked his car and walked into his apartment. He cracked open a beer, sat down, and then he called the police.
“Police department.”
“Yes, I’d like to report a gang of Mexican kids who are harassing cars as they drive by on Alameda street.”
It didn’t take long for three police cars to show up. All you have to say is a gang of Mexicans harassing people and the cops are sure to follow.
When the kids saw the cops they scattered. One of the kids ran into John’s courtyard. As it turned out it was the ringleader. John walked outside and saw the ringleader and his girlfriend hiding in the bushes.
“Excuse me, do you belong here?" John asked.
The kids came out from behind the bush.
“Honestly,” the ringleader said. “I’m hiding from the cops.”
The ringleader didn’t recognize John, but John sure in heck recognized the ringleader. The ringleader was looking to John for sympathy, but John wasn’t having it. John walked back into his apartment and called the police again.
“Hi. I just called to register a complaint about the Mexican kids. Well, there’s a couple of them hiding in my courtyard. Do you need my address?”
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