Monday night. I think it was around 2330 Eastern.

Wife & I were driving to Atlanta and she wanted to stop at a bathroom. I wheeled into a gas station and stayed with the car while she went inside... there are maybe three cars there, including us. I notice an old black Sunbird parked near the building almost to the back and it has a couple of white guys in their late 20's. They are watching me instead of the blonde in shorts who just walked out to the pumps... THAT ain't right. The passenger gets out and he's pretty scruffy, leans back in talking to the driver... as soon as the girl drives off, he starts my way with a shit-eating grin on his face. I punch the window down (I hate getting glass in my eyes) trip the seat belt and ease my shirt-tail up over the Charter 38. Also grabbed a speedloader from the center console, shift it to my left hand.

Grinning boy looks back toward his buddy and I take the opportunity quietly open the door and step out with my hand covering the gun butt. He looks surprised, when he looks back from the car and sees me standing there 20 feet away. The first words out of his mouth are "Hey mister, we ain't robbers or nothing..." I said "I'm an old cop. If you are, I've got that covered." He puts his hands up and says "Sorry, we just f-ed up and we really need 10 bucks worth of gas to get back to Sweetwater. I you wanted to put it on a card, that'd be OK. Sorry man..."

I said "No. Ask somebody else." He says 'Sorry man' & walks back to the car. Both of them are shaking their heads. I dig in my pocket and find 7 bucks, watch them a few minutes and they don't start the car. So I walked the money over to the passenger side and both of them immediately put their hands where I can see them... driver is scruffier than the passenger. I said "Here you go, boys. I've been in a fix a couple of times myself." The driver says "Thanks man, we'll get the other three bucks. I just know it takes ten bucks to get back to Sweetwater."

"Sweetwater Texas?" I ask? "Tennessee" says the passenger.

Off we go into the night.

Good for you on all counts.

perfect for the occasion. That's a good reminder to stay alert. Condition yellow is a good thing.

--
Of the Troops & For the Troops

. . . condition yellow is mandatory all the time these days.

So. Chatt. is no where I want to be after dark.
Several years ago I spent a lot of time in Chatt with work.
Kind of like north, east and west B'ham. Really don't want to be there at all, much less after dark.
Stuff happens everywhere now days........

.

--
Of the Troops & For the Troops

I know THAT's gonna cost me... Saw this article this afternoon...
All sorts of things can come up in your head, especially for those of us with a somewhat devious mind. Obviously, if the bad guy gets close enough, throwing a cup of hot coffee in his face will give you time to deal with him. If the bad guy is stupid enough to go after a woman in her own kitchen, there are all sorts of really bad things that can happen to him if the woman will just keep her cool and use her head.

One of the funniest examples occurred when a friend of mine was being followed by three street punks. As they closed in, my friend just stepped into a public ladies’ bathroom. As the bad guys stood around, outside, wondering what kind of weirdo they had been following, my friend called the police on his cell phone. The ladies in the restroom got a big kick out of it, too, while they watched the police haul the crooks away.

I recall the evening when I had to arrest the huge construction worker all by my little old self. He was standing there, grinning at me, and I knew I was toast if he ever got his hands on me. So I just pitched him the handcuffs and told him to put them on. He continued to stand there. He continued to grin. My advanced police training told me that he was not taking me seriously.

So I just planted a 230-grain hardball right between his two feet. He quit grinning and actually did a pretty darned good job of getting the handcuffs on. There are probably some good reasons why you wouldn’t want to apply this solution, nowadays, but my point is that doing the unexpected may be just the thing to tip a defensive problem in your favor. By Sheriff Jim Wilson

http://sheriffjimwilson.com/2012/08/14/personal-defense-do-the-unexpected/

--
Of the Troops & For the Troops

I don't think these boys were up to anything other than their stated purpose. I wasn't trying to start anything with them either. But situations like that set an OODA cycle in motion, whether we like it or not. You can either drive it or be run over by it. It finished up 'No harm/no foul' and I am decidedly happy about that.

Just got home from work , and my brain is not working very well tonight Sarge, whats OODA ???

A fighting system designed by Lt Col. John Boyd for aerial combat. The acronym stands for "Observe, Orient, Decide, ACT" There are a number of explanations, all windier than I like; but this will get you started

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/OODA_loop

In summary, I observed what experience tells me is suspicious or odd conduct. It was apparent that I had been selected for some purpose. I oriented by getting my gun hand ready, securing a reload and getting my window glass out of the potential line of fire. When the guy started for my car and turned his attention away momentarily, I decided and acted simultaneously to get off his line of attack and close on him. This put time and space in my favor and gave me the element of surprise. This disrupted his perception of how the event was to unfold. He was expecting to approach some old white guy who would give him money. The verbal dialog is a second, separate cycle that acted within--and in this case enhanced--the first.

Of course you're not thinking any of that while it's going on... you just see a potential battle coming on and you drive the unique circumstances to overwhelm a potential opponent(s) before they can do anything besides escape or lose big time.

What's hilarious this one is in the end, I gave him most of what he wanted. I'll give a guy 6-7 bucks if I think he needs it, but I won't have it taken from me without a fight.

Sarge, did you happen to notice the license on the car? (OK, dumb question - of course you did) Sweetwater, Tennessee is about 40 or so miles up I-75 from Chattanooga. If the plate was from Monroe Co. Tennessee, chances are they were telling the truth.

Guessing that was at the Ringgold exit, or maybe Dalton. Very familiar with Ringgold.
It looks pretty ratty now 'cause a tornado blew most of that area away last year and they haven't got it rebuilt yet. Good little town, though.

but that was it. I was watching their hands first, eyes second.

My late brother-in-law, Jim Wallace, was a hell of a fellow. Give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, but it wasn't a good idea to try to take it.

Years ago in one of the less scenic sections of Chattanooga, a large gentleman of color walked up to Jim as he was gassing up his car and demanded his money. Jim calmly pulled the nozzle out of the filler, pointed it at the guy's belt buckle, and squeezed the handle, soaking the front of the guy's pants from the waist down with good ol' leaded regular. Jim then pulled his Zippo lighter out with his other hand, flipped open the cover, put his thumb on the wheel, and said "Whatcha gonna do now, man?"

Jim said later that he didn't know a guy that big could run that fast.

best regards Frank