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    1. Shootout in New York City

      by , 09-12-2017 at 02:54 PM
      07-28-2017 -- Starts slowly. Driving around Orlando, trying to figure out how to get certain places. Taking what is probably to 408 to it's end over by UCF, but calling it one of the odd-numbered toll roads like the 417 or 429. Eventually somewhere more over near downtown, wandering around with Dale, and perhaps KPSB or Nick W. Maybe. Anyway, there is somebody that is somewhat punk-ish, but I still think or still hope is OK, and Dale ends up painting their picture, and does a remarkably decent job at it, so they don't destroy it or tear it up, but let him continue. Meanwhile, a cat gets its head stuck under a rock, and four or five other cats and kittens help to move the rock enough to free it and save it. Cool.

      Meanwhile, there are a couple of girls, seemingly somewhat homeless or something, possibly with several kinds of various ages that they are trying to care for, and I am helping them put some groceries in a fridge, while a couple of older ladies come by who seem to be trying to help them out a bit. They seem to be trying to provide significant help, because they have bought 5 or 6 prepaid trac-phones for the girls to use, which seems like a fairly good investment for a couple of girls who they've just run into on the streets. Problem is, the girls seem to be involved with the punk and his friends, who are also punks, and who no longer have anything to do with people I know.

      The punks are seeming to get more threatening, and because I dare even talk to the girls, are starting to push me around slightly and act like they may be starting to steal some of my stuff. Anyway, things move on a bit, and I have hiked through the downtown area for a distance, until I run into several of the girls and kids again, near the hospital, where they seem to be trying to get some help, trying to sign up for benefits or something, while seeking minor medical aid. A bunch of us are sitting in the area, and being called on one at a time to speak forth our relationship, and I end up calling out something like concerned bystander, and am trying to help out by explaining the ladies who helped them out with the prepaid phones in the hopes that it will help them get benefits. But the guy in charge is explaining how the biggest need is for a stable address where they can get mail which is not owned by the council. (Yes, my dream is starting to sound British here.)

      Eventually I leave the hospital, and head back to the area where I started in, and am starting to gather up my things, but a couple of the punks are coming back and becoming a problem again. I try to get rid of them, both by sending them off to the hospital, and by warning them that the girls are my friends, and they will be mad at them if they pick on me, but they continue lightly shoving me, and making grabs for some of my stuff. By this point, I've packed all my stuff up, and am wearing two large backpacks (one of them a European-style hiking pack) and pulling two large suitcases, and am simply trying to get away. I've got my Corolla parked around the corner, but they have at least one motorcycle, so I don't want to lead them to it, but want to lose them, first, then get in the car and drive away.

      There are a couple of uniformed cops standing around, and I am considering going to them for help, but I decide against it for now, and move a block over and head down the road a bit. At one point I put a little distance between myself and the guy following me, but then a lady gets knocked to the ground by the crowd and he helps her back up, and says something about being an Uber driver. I ask him about it a few minutes later, and he admits he is not, and says he just said that because I was an Uber driver. Odd stuff.

      We wander through a flea market-like area where I am glancing at some used books, but it is getting late and the place is shutting down and locking up, so we have to reverse directions and get out of there, which leads back to walking back the way we came, near where all this started. The one punk is still keeping an eye on me for all the other punks, and I am getting desperate enough to consider approaching the cops to ask for help. If they can distract and hold off the punks for a few minutes, I might be able to get my car and drive away. The problem is, though the cops have not stopped us from walking back into the area (strangely), they are in the middle of blocking everything off, and are holding machine guns in their hands at the ready.

      I realize that something is going down, and glancing up, see another machine gun sticking out a window, but notice it is a cop holding it. Things are obviously getting very tense, and suddenly something seems to break, and more and more shots start ringing out. Cops are firing up into the buildings towering around us (this is starting to look far less Orlando, and far more NYC) and people are firing down from the buildings into the cops. I see a couple of cops shot, and collapsing to the ground, bleeding heavily. There is a seemingly homeless woman who is calling out, demanding to give her back her gun, as she could use it better than the person who currently has is, and it seems she may be under cover, but she's shot down. By this time, several of us innocent bystanders are cowering on the grounds. I am actually underneath my backpacks and suitcases, which probably makes me a fair bit safer.

      More people are being shot, and several of us are just huddling here, but several others are grabbing us, and pulling us under and inside some of the buildings, hoping to get us out of range of the shooters. Some of the people have been shot, and are bleeding as they are being pulled along, but the ones pulling are hoping they are only minorly injured. Others, like myself, are unharmed, but either in shock or playing dead, and just being pulled along. Big sections on buildings are swinging up or down on large hydraulic systems, opening or closing access to large areas, and we are worried because we don't know what is happening.

      One lady (older than the teen girls looking for help, but seemingly younger than the middle aged ladies who were helping) who seems to be in her late 30s or early 40s sees me being dragged along there, and seems to be worried about me, and she is kind of cute, so I am considering getting up and speaking to her, but that's about when I woke up.