So I roll into LA… on a Friday… during rush hour… on the 10. It was a parking lot. The lady next to me was doing a crossword puzzle… and toking. I turned up the radio and eased my seat back. Then, I noticed something new; a rolling billboard.
CA License plate
On the other side of me, the car ahead of him was a … Brown Datsun… Oh F BOMB! I grabbed my cell phone to call 911. Before I could press the second one a police helicopter was circling and a SWAT team was maneuvering and surrounding the car. I immediately dropped to the floor board.
Multiple shots were fired. I lost count. I covered my head with my hands. Shouting. Then silence.
Someone knocked at my car window. It was a SWAT team member.
I checked. I wasn’t shot. I crawled up into the car’s seat again. “I think so.”
“Um. Yes. I’m moving.”
Grinning, “Welcome to LA.”
Dazed, I drove the rest of the way to Santa Monica, where Route 66 ends. Thankfully, I didn’t end that day.
Happy to have gotten this fuzzy shot.