I said in my last post, “Shoplifters Are Bad,” that the airman got exactly what he deserved. What I didn’t say was exactly what that was. I deliberately left the punishment ambiguous, as it was running a bit long. Regardless, Scott had more to tell about that fateful day.
Here’s the scene: Scott called the police after being recommended to do so by a shipyard bubba for something that an Air Force airman did, which was stealing from the local game shop, and is now sitting in a corner with a few bruises given to him by a couple of marines. The two marines are now standing three feet away from the airman, waiting for him to do something dumb.
Twenty minutes after Scott made the phone call, a police officer comes up to the store entrance. His build is tall, lanky, and black as night. In fact, the cop is so tall he has to duck to get into the store. He walked over to Scott and asked him, “Are you the owner or manager of this establishment?”
In most business situations, like unsolicited sales visits, Scott uses the term, manager. When it’s a legal matter, he is the owner. In the South, property ownership is first, color is second. Scott firmly told the cop, “Yes, I am the owner of this store.”
In that Southern drawl that is now rarely seen in South Carolina, the police officer then leans in close and asked Scott, “So what do you want me to do to him?” Not with, to. At this , the airman seems to have soiled himself.
Scott’s response? “Just go ahead and take him to the air force base. They should know what to do with him.” No problems. The airman is loaded up into the cruiser and the police officer drives him to the air force base for punishment.
Follow
