RAUL’S
By Curtis Jackson
As you know, Rauls was a taco stand located on
Most of my career, I worked plain-clothes assignments.
I drove various under cover vehicles, including a 1964 Chevy Impala with a
concealed red light, and a “federal” radio installed under the drivers seat.
(Compliments of George Ramos) I guess I
didn’t look like the typical Firestone cop, who was buffed, handsome, squared
jawed, etc. As a result, few people on the street ever thought I was an
officer. Matter of fact, now that I look back, no one thought I was an officer.
Even when I was dressed in my finest Sheriff’s uniform. I still had to convince
them. “Yes, I really am an officer”.
Back to the story.
I was standing in line at the window of Raul’s,
hoping they would recognize me, and give me a discount. (Note: Never worked for
me). As I was waiting my turn to put my head in the order window, I was tapped
on my back. I turned around, and saw a very large black, buffed, young adult
individual standing about 6’03”. He had
a large vinyl shopping bag in his right hand. My first thought was, “I can’t
believe I left my gun in my vehicle”. The vehicle was parked in front of
Raul’s, only a few feet away, but it seemed like miles. Fortunately the
individual did not appear to be combative.
He shook the sack, and said, “do you want to buy a
BV”, or something like that. Judging from the size of his sack, I said, “You
have a T.V.?” He said, “ I said RD. You know, Red Devils. I got anything you
want. Reds, Blues, Yellows, Black Beauties. I got it all.” As he was talking,
he opened the bag showing me a large number of prescription bottles, containing
pills of various types.
I told him to close the bag up, and get away from
me. I didn’t want to get busted. Didn’t he know cops came here to get tacos all
the time? He indicated to me that he wasn’t worried about no “dumb cop”. He
said “do you want any, or not?” I told
him I would take everything he had, but for him to get away from me, and go
across the street to the empty parking lot, and wait for me to get my taco. I
didn’t want to get busted. He indicated he would, but said I couldn’t afford
everything he had as he had “just knocked off a pharmacy the other night”. I
told him I would “just take what he had in the bag”.
By this time I was finally at the window. I ordered
my two tacos, and looked across the street and saw my “friend” waiting for me.
He kept motioning for me to hurry up. I received my tacos, and opened the
passenger side of my vehicles door. I reached down, trying not to be too
obvious, and asked for back up at that location, via the “federal “ radio. I
heard two units “ack” the call with a two-minute ETA.
As I rose up, my “friend” was getting very agitated.
He hollered “do want this stuff or not?” I told him, I would be right there. I
drove over to his location across the street. Of course, with my weapon this
time. I got out of my vehicle and started small talking him about buying
everything he had at his home. Basically, stalling for time.
As we were talking, I could hear the sweet sound of the
Plymouth Fury carburetors coming in my direction. I said that “sounds like the cops”. He instantly hid the bag, and
said if they stop here “let me do all the talking”. I agreed. One unit slid
into the parking lot, grabbed my “friend”, “placed” him on the hood, handcuffed
him, and threw him in the back seat. All in one fluid motion. Nothing said. He
looked at me with a confused look from the back seat of the unit. I took my
badge out, and identified myself. Sweating profusely he says, “YOU CAN’T BE NO
COP!”
I said, “yes,
believe me, I really am an officer”