7 crack dealers from Oakland

There is something called the Black Skiers Association, which meets at, and destroys, a different ski resort every year, on the MLK holiday.  They have fucked up Vail and several other places.  In the late 1990s, they descended on Incline Village, on the North Shore of Lake Tahoe.  They caused a large hotel/casino, the Hyatt House, to close and lock their doors for two days.  I was working at a 7-Eleven on the South Shore of Lake Tahoe, and was aware of all the chimp activity going on nearby.  Early Sunday morning, during the holiday weekend of MLK Day, two cars rolled up to my front door.  A brand new Mercedes, still without a license plate, but having a front license plate frame that said, “Oakland-Alameda County Mercedes-Benz.”  The other car was an Acura, brand new, WITH plates. SEVEN knee-grows tumbled out of the two cars, yelling “nigger” and “motherfucker” at each other.

I had a 120 pound pit bull, named Sparky, behind the counter with me.  He belonged to George, an asshole who was great friends with the owner of the store.  George was in the cooler, stocking the shelves.  The nigs came in the store, still SCREAMING nigger and motherfucker at each other.  Sparky went on Red Alert.  I wasn’t the least bit concerned because I was packing a .357 Magnum on my hip, had a Beretta .25 auto in an ankle holster, another .357 under the counter and, of course, the Sparkster.  The mob consisted of 4 dudes and 3 dudettes.  The 3 girls and 3 of the guys were in their early 20s, were well-dressed, clean cut, and drugged-up out of control,  The 4th guy was the “head nigger,” being 30-something, over 6 feet tall, muscular, an obvious convicted felon, who was dressed all in black, with a shaved head, which looked like a bowling ball on his shoulders.  He was also a heroin junkie, as he selected a cheap-ass mystery-meat breakfast sandwich, which I wouldn’t feed to a starving dog, got a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s Syrup off a shelf, and poured half the bottle of syrup on top of the sandwich, on a paper plate, and commenced to eat that shit.  Junkies usually don’t eat that much but, when they do eat, they have a ginormous sweet-tooth.

Sparky stood, like a frigging statue, for 5 minutes.  Had he twitched one ear, all of the several metal tags, on his collar, would have tinkled.  He stood a mere 6 feet away from the assholes, with them all facing him, while putting stuff on their burritos, etc.  There was absolutely nothing to block their view of Sparky, they were just too hyped up to see him.  I was so relaxed, I was leaning against the register, smoking a cigarette, and gazing out the front door.  Finally, after a full 5 minutes, one of the younger guys went to falsetto city, exclaiming, “What kind of motherfucking dog is THAT?”  Then he said, “We better stop saying ‘nigger’ and ‘motherfucker,’ we’re making this clerk nervous and afraid.”  THAT really pissed me off, and I came close to telling them that 7 niggers were NOTHING, when I had confronted HUNDREDS of them in Watts.  Their volume went down a bit, but was still window-rattling.  Eventually, they all paid for their stuff and left.  The 6 mid-level crack dealers were all in the two cars, with the engines running, waiting for the head nigger to make his grand exit.  As he started to walk out, leaving the #1 biggest mess that I’ve ever seen, I bellowed at him, “Just leave your fucking shit on the counter here, asshole.”  Had he merely turned around, which he didn’t, I was prepared to ask him a rhetorical question:  “Do I look like your motherfucking nigger slave, asshole?”

Half a minute before they left the store, a customer came in to get a cup of coffee.  I walked over to talk to him, being then out of earshot of my police scanner.  The NEXT morning, that customer made a special trip back to the store to tell me that two Douglas County Sheriff’s cars had the coons pulled over, in front of Scottie’s Hardware, which was just 75 yards down hill, but not in my line of sight.  Two of them were already cuffed, in the back seat, and the other five were “assuming the position.”

3 1/2 months later, a Deputy named Rick Brown came in the store.  He’d been on a different shift so I hadn’t seen him since the crack dealer caper.  I told Rick the story and he informed me that the two Sheriff’s cars, that had stopped them, had been following them and were parked in the dark, about 50 yards from my front door.  They had been there the whole time.  I thought about that for a few seconds and said, “I didn’t know that, but I wouldn’t have done anything differently if I HAD known they were there.”  All 7 were arrested for drugs, weapons, and warrants, in the State of Nevada.  Just ask OJ how cool it is to be in prison in Nevada.

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