The Dealer/Belltown/Mon Oct 18, 12:00 pm: On Friday Oct 15, a Nissan car dealer from Bellevue went to downtown Seattle to "get drunk and do cocaine." He did this once a month, as a kind of break from the boredom of being middle class. Once downtown, he met up with his shady friend, J.D. They partied at a bar for a while and then went to J.D.'s apartment to sniff cocaine; they were drunk and high for the next 24 hours. Early Sunday morning the car dealer, asleep on the couch, was awakened by J.D., who was holding a butterfly knife at the car dealer's throat. Shady J.D. ordered the car dealer to cash his paycheck so they could buy some more drugs. The car dealer obeyed and cashed the check; the two got drunk and high for another day and night. On Monday morning, J.D. woke up the car dealer at knifepoint again, and threatened to kill him if he did not get some more money for drugs. The car dealer told his buddy that he had some more money in his desk at work. "Well, let's go then!," J.D. said. But when the car dealer stepped outside, he broke free of his captor, and sped away in his Nissan. Though the car dealer reported the crime to the police, he soon regretted it. He didn't want to be a "snitch," and besides, J.D. was his friend -- the man who showed him a "good time" and broke the obnoxiously dull rhythms of his middle class existence. He told the cops, who were itching to bust J.D.'s ass, that he would rather they stayed out of it. He then thanked them, shook their hands, and returned home to his wife.

The Gambler/Greenwood/Wed Oct 20, 12:29 pm: Tonight, a middle-class man who had gambled away everything he owned, down to his socks, and was "as of this day" homeless, penniless, and wifeless, decided it was time to jump off the Aurora bridge. An anonymous cell phone call informed police of his plan to jump, and when they arrived, he turned to them and said he didn't want to leave the world but, really, what else could he do? He had gambled away everything, was broke, and had no house or wife or dog. He then begged the police to take him to jail so he could have a "time out," but the cops took him to Harborview Medical center for a "psych-eval" instead.

The Great Shame/Central District/Tues Oct 26, 3:11 am: Is there anything more ignominious than being hit by a chair? Is there a worse shame than that of feeling pain from an instrument normally used to relax the human behind? One would rather be run over by a two ton truck or pushed from a bridge! A night clerk at an apartment building on Yesler Way was recently the unfortunate victim of this very humiliating insult. He was struck by a metal folding chair -- which is slightly better than being hit by a wooden one (indeed, there is nothing worse than being hit by a wooden chair). The metal folding chair made loud clanging noises when it hit the night clerk's head, and then got tangled with his left arm and forearm. Though the police failed to find the man who administered this painful blow (he was described as wearing a thigh-length leather coat and sporting dreadlocks), they did admit the chair into evidence.

Riot Gear, Baby/Downtown/Wed Oct 27, 12:00 pm: After all these years, Detective Gene McNaughton finally reported today that way back in 1997, he "lost" his black riot helmet, sleek black jumpsuit, and hard nightstick, which had been left in his police car during President Clinton's visit to our fine city. Gene McNaughton emphasized that his riot stuff was not stolen but was lost -- no one would dare steal from a detective... no one! Anyway, to the couple who stole his riot outfit, would you be willing to share? My wife and I would like borrow it for a few months, and promise to return it.

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