This was a few girlfriends before the wife. Michelle lived down on North Avenue. I’d go down there and pick her up. She lived next to this storefront church. I’m waiting for her to get ready while I’m parked in front of the church and this dude comes jetting out of the church, jumps in a red Oldsmobile in front of me and tears off down the road—hauling ass! Then this other dude comes out of the church with a gun, fires down the street after the car—here I am sitting through some Pulp Fiction bullshit—and then hops into this car across from the church and goes tearing after him, giving chase. A few minute later, The Girlfriend still isn’t ready and the cops roll up. I tell them what happened and that they went that way and the one guy is driving a red Oldsmobile, and they’re off.

Then The Girlfriend comes out and she’s like, “Why were you talking to the poleese?” and I’m like, “I was being a good citizen. If people are shooting guns outside of my house I want the police to know. I wouldn’t want this shit to become an everyday thing.”

She was livid and says, “Are you fucking stupid? I have to live here. You can’t be talkin’ to the poleese around here—get me the fuck out of here.”

She was weird like that. We were at a pawn shop and I was going to get her this one ring. She really liked this one ring, and she’s all nervous saying, “What if some criminal pawned this ring and he comes back looking for it and the he finds out I bought it and he comes looking for me?”

I’m like, “Really, you live in that kind of world, that’s what goes through your mind when you’re shopping?”

She was weird like that.

Well, one time she has to go to the bank and we’re out by my place and the Provident bank used to be inside the Shoppers Supermarket right around the corner form my house. They had this cutout counter under the low ceiling there and the bank was behind the counter. So instead of waiting in line I go get an ice tea—maybe a doughnut—and I’m killing time, waiting and she’s not done. So I go over to the bank with my ice tea and her and these other people are all laying on the floor and I’m like, “Why are you laying on the floor?” and she won’t say anything. Nobody is speaking. Then I notice that there’s two dudes behind the counter trying to rip open a cash drawer. There are also two dudes on my side of the counter and it was like I was watching TV. I just stood there and drank my tea thinking, “Wow, this is what a bank robbery looks like.”

It’s not going too well, so at a certain point these guys bolt, two this way and two that way. The dudes heading out through the emergency door are kicking it. All they had to do was use the bar, press on it and they’d be out, but they’re kicking the door.

The other two dudes are trying to go out the indoor, and they keep pushing on it and it jams and they have to break the thing to get out rather than using the out door.

She’s like, “We got ta go! Ged me the fuck outa here!”

I said, “Look, this is my neighborhood. I live here. I don’t want to see this shit again. So I’m talking to the cops. I know the cops aren’t all about me. I got a good look at these guys. I can give a detailed description. I know they don’t give a shit about me, but I’m not all about stupid crime and violence in my own food market, so go wait in the car.”

Nobody else stayed to speak with the cops. I told the cops, “The two that went out that way, blue shirt and black shirt. The two dudes that went out the side door, one had a Tupac shirt on the other had a red shirt.”

When I get out to the car she was really pissed. She’s like, “You can’t be talkin’ to the poleese! You got no sense. Them people gonna have us killed!”

I was like, “Look, what, you think these guys are going to remember what I look like, discover my name, get my address and hunt me down? Those dudes can’t open a door! They’re not very dangerous to me, but I’m not going to have them shooting up my local market. Can’t you understand that?”

She’s like, “Oh, yer shid is fuckin’ ridiculous! Get me the fuck out a here!”

I’m like, “Yeah, I’m getting you the fuck out of here, but your shit is nuts.”

Jay, that shit was nuts. Her name was Michelle, ran into her on the light rail last year. She’s married and got two kids. Her kids were with her, learning historic Baltimore civics no doubt. You can use this as a story.

-Erique