So, I’m driving home Saturday night, and because I’m paranoid, I take multiple routes home depending on the day, the weather, or my mood. The route envelopes are hermetically sealed by Francisco, my Philippine manservant/valet, so every night is an adventure.
I was a few miles from home when I came to a red light near a local park. I was too busy watching YouTube on my phone and filing my nails, so I didn’t see the two cars together on the other side of the road. “Hmm, that’s odd,” I thought, but everyone in this town is odd, so it’s another day ending in “y.”
One car was in the opposite lane and the other was on the shoulder. The light changed, and I started on my way. Then it happened.
“POP POP POP POP POP POP!”
My first thought was, “Holy shit, that’s gunfire.” I looked in the rear view mirror and the car on the shoulder sped away, while the car in the lane was just sitting there. I was still driving, mostly because I didn’t have my vest and I wasn’t sure what happened. I was sure it was gunfire, but I figured, “Screw it, the district will come out.”
A moment or so later, my conscience got to me. The district was likely in the middle of a shift change, and I could hear my mother’s voice saying, “You’re it. Turn around and go see if there’s a victim.” I muttered, “F**k,” and turned the car around.
It took me a minute to arrive at the scene, and it was a ghost town. I circled the area, checked to see if there was blood on the street or any sign of spent casings. Nothing. What the actual hell? It was definitely gunfire, but maybe – unlike the shooters in my division – these clowns had terrible aim.
I checked the logs for that district on Sunday, and there were no reports of gunshot victims. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, since many shooting victims go outside the city for treatment, but the entire scenario was very odd.