A bullet whizzed over my head and I hit the dirt. “They didn’t say anything about getting combat pay in that bonus” I thought as I cowered behind a jeep in the parking lot.
It all started when a desperate scheduler called me to take a last minute shop in what can only be described as less than desirable neighborhood in a nearby city. A simple gas station audit, a small purchase and a few photos and I’d be on my merry way. WRONG.
Common sense would have told me that I should have said no after doing the location one time before and I had to wait for a pair of hookers to move from under the main ID sign so I could take a photo. I thought I was being patient until one of them called over to me with the question “hey baby which way do you go?” At least I gave them a laugh for the day with my bewildered response “I’m going up to Millcreek.” Apparently that was not an answer they expected.
This time it was like a sudden remake of the Gunfight at the Ok Corral when rival gangs broke out in gunfire in the street just three houses away from where I was trying to snap the “overall from across the street” photo. Bystanders stampeded away from the scene and I hurriedly used that opportunity to duck and run for cover along with them, leaping into my car like a deranged Tarzan and zooming out of sight.
That was definitely an interesting report to write up in the section detailing “anything unique or unusual that took place during this shop”