"Ten O four."
"You got the four?"
"Yeah. But, no bag."
"Yeah. That's fine. Just stick the bag over your head."
"What you mean?"
"You got my ten?"
"Yeah."
"OK then."
"Get the fuck out!"
"What's the problem?"
"You rude. That what. Don't come back!"
"Bitch!"
"What you say, mofo!?"
"I called you a bitch."
"Oh. That right. How 'bout I call police?"
"Call 'em, bitch. I'm leaving. Not coming back."
Richard eyes the clerk reaching for a phone on a wall behind the counter as he exits the store on his way home with a six pack of beer.
He walks a half block up the boulevard to his parked car when he looks back and sees the clerk in front of the store talking to a police man.
Suddenly, the clerk shouts and Richard hears her over the din of traffic on the boulevard heading into Santa Rosa from outskirts and suburbs where Richard buys beer and lives a few blocks from the store.
"There he be, officer. That cracker! I get you yet."
"Sir! Sir!"
The officer calls out to Richard who is opening his driver side door as the officer is at once striding up to Richard and speaking into a radio holstered on his uniformed shoulder.
"Sir. The clerk at the convenience store says you stole beer."
"I paid her. I didn't steal it."
"She says you owe her money."
"Yeah. Four cents. I gave her a ten. It was ten O four."
"Alright. Have a seat over there and we'll get this figured out."
Richard sits on a curb in front of his car behind another car parked on the side of a busy boulevard in Santa Rosa.
A second officer strides down the block to where Richard sits on a curb and the first officer awaits the second officer.
The two officers exchange words in hushed tones over traffic noise and Richard looks down the block towards the store from his seated position.
He sees in the distance down the block a third officer place handcuffs on the clerk who accuses him of stealing.
The second officer to arrive on scene struts up to Richard seated on a curb and says that he is free to go.
"What happened?"
"We had complaints about the store. That's all. You're not at fault."
Richard stands and as he stands up from the curb in between parked cars, he stumbles catching himself on his car's hood.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight?" the officer asks.
"Oh. One or two," Richard retorts.
"Step over here, sir!"
"You got the four?"
"Yeah. But, no bag."
"Yeah. That's fine. Just stick the bag over your head."
"What you mean?"
"You got my ten?"
"Yeah."
"OK then."
"Get the fuck out!"
"What's the problem?"
"You rude. That what. Don't come back!"
"Bitch!"
"What you say, mofo!?"
"I called you a bitch."
"Oh. That right. How 'bout I call police?"
"Call 'em, bitch. I'm leaving. Not coming back."
Richard eyes the clerk reaching for a phone on a wall behind the counter as he exits the store on his way home with a six pack of beer.
He walks a half block up the boulevard to his parked car when he looks back and sees the clerk in front of the store talking to a police man.
Suddenly, the clerk shouts and Richard hears her over the din of traffic on the boulevard heading into Santa Rosa from outskirts and suburbs where Richard buys beer and lives a few blocks from the store.
"There he be, officer. That cracker! I get you yet."
"Sir! Sir!"
The officer calls out to Richard who is opening his driver side door as the officer is at once striding up to Richard and speaking into a radio holstered on his uniformed shoulder.
"Sir. The clerk at the convenience store says you stole beer."
"I paid her. I didn't steal it."
"She says you owe her money."
"Yeah. Four cents. I gave her a ten. It was ten O four."
"Alright. Have a seat over there and we'll get this figured out."
Richard sits on a curb in front of his car behind another car parked on the side of a busy boulevard in Santa Rosa.
A second officer strides down the block to where Richard sits on a curb and the first officer awaits the second officer.
The two officers exchange words in hushed tones over traffic noise and Richard looks down the block towards the store from his seated position.
He sees in the distance down the block a third officer place handcuffs on the clerk who accuses him of stealing.
The second officer to arrive on scene struts up to Richard seated on a curb and says that he is free to go.
"What happened?"
"We had complaints about the store. That's all. You're not at fault."
Richard stands and as he stands up from the curb in between parked cars, he stumbles catching himself on his car's hood.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight?" the officer asks.
"Oh. One or two," Richard retorts.
"Step over here, sir!"
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