This morning I sat down to have breakfast, about five minutes later I heard, “Come out with your hands up. We will not hurt you. If you need help, we will help you. Come out with your hands up.” Someone repeatedly said the same thing over and over. I heard a dog bark, and I thought it was the perps playing a stupid game. But the person kept repeating “Come out with your hands up…” It sounded as if the sound was coming from outside my door. I walked over to the door and put my ear to the door. It definitely sounded as if someone was right outside my door. I got a little scared. Could it be the police right outside my door? But I hadn’t done anything and did not open the door. Again “Come out with your hands up…” Finally, I decided I had to open the door. I expected to have an officer at the front door. I opened the door. No one at the door. I walked over to the railing. What a scene!
There were about thirteen Metropolitan Las Vegas police cars, an ambulance, and a white car, parked all over the place. There were about four officers with guns aimed at apartment 105. They were all hiding behind a big tree, and behind them sat a German Shepard with his handler.
I stood by the railing for about two minutes and I heard an officer shut at me to go inside my apartment. I obeyed, but I left my door open so I could see what was going on. A minute later, a police office said, “Hey, shut that door!” I shut the door and went to my window to see what was happening.
The officer with the bullhorn kept repeating “Come out with your hands up…” Finally, a small man, Filipino, about 100 lbs. or less, came walking out of the apartment. The officer handcuffed him and made him sit on the ground.
The dog began barking and jumping at the man who came out of the apartment and seemed ready to attack him.
When I first heard someone say “Come out with your hands up,” I really thought it was me they were after. I expected to open the door and find a police office with a gun aimed at me.
At one time, I used to respect the police, but I no longer do. I’ve seen too many of them act like thugs, especially toward targets like me. Whatever respect I had for police officers, I’ve lost since becoming their target.
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Sounds like classic street theater, I would not be surprised in the least if the whole scene was strictly for your benefit as a TI. Aren’t you stoked we pay these people with our tax money so they can harass us?
No, I think this was for real. The guy lives here and is a little crazy. Maybe he’s a target himself. As I walk around my complex, I can tell there are many targets who live here: Footprints outside their doors, electrical wires attached to their doors, gravel thrown around the area they live, uneven blinds, etc.
Those are definate signs!
Really makes you mad, doesn’t it?! But it’s either that or go to an actual prison with bars. They should be using tax money to benefit the people, not harass them!
We want more police like Edmund Exly in La Confidential who can kick the Rollo Damassi’s ass.
It would be nice if more rel cops were like the ficticious ones. The bad guys usually lose in fantasy.
That would scare me! Of course they probably thought it was a plus that they managed to scare you. The first thing targets are taught, it seems, having read accounts from targets all over the world on blogs, is that the police are not our friends. The Police teach us that themselves, by arresting us for things we don’t do, by ignoring our pleas for help, and sometimes by telling lies about us! I’ve had it all. I don’t respect them, generally, although, I do still believe some are genuine – but it’s rare to meet them. I’ve met a few. Problem is, those are good people working for a bad corportation.
The other day, I was in 7-11, a police officer walked in with his uniform on and on top of his head was a blue hat like the one I wear. Police in Las Vegas don’t wear hats and to put a hat on that definitely looks like it belongs on a woman’s head is stupid. I really think they enjoy lording things over targets.
Sounds like it! That’s terrible! What an @$$!