Page 142 - NIXBOOK

The local business owner who had got into the habit of having breakfast in the McDonald’s parking lot every morning. His
routine included throwing the bag and food wrappers right out of his car window, even though there was a garbage receptacle
literally just a few feet away. The manager decided to not make an official police report or even have me contact the guy because
in the words of the manager “He’s actually a great customer – he comes here every single day!”

Old pickup truck on a backroad, on fire. I get there, and I can see a little bit of smoke coming from under the hood. I peer into
the wheel well and I can see some orange flame dripping and spreading a bit. I know that opening the hood would be the worst
thing to do, and trying to aim a fire extinguisher in there would be for show only and pointless. The owner of the truck gets
agitated that I’m not putting out the fire. I point out to him the sound of the sirens; the responding fire department trucks are
getting close and are less than a minute away; they’ll take care of it. I have a little bit of insider information that the truck owner
is a pedophile, so I don’t feel a huge obligation to even make a show of pretending to try to control the fire with my extinguisher.
By the time the fire department guys arrive and get set up, the front of the truck was completely engulfed in flames 10 feet high.
If you feel bad about this, go look up the word “pedophile” and maybe “karma”.

I once met a very large wounded coyote in the middle of the road that I had to shoot with my .45 so I could drag it into a ditch.
Not on my list of favorite experiences, because I was ridiculously paranoid that it was going to start moving or twitching when
I went to grab its leg and get it off the road.

In the interest of public safety and enforcing traffic laws, I’ve made a lot of women drivers cry. And men drivers shake. I’ve made
more than a few men cry, actually. Usually that was not my actual intention though.