"The most reckless discharge of a firearm..."

The day had been long and full of history and beauty and humidity. Corrie's birthday trip had been a grand day and rousing success. After a siesta, I put on my tourist pants and re-donned my Mexican tourist shirt and we headed out for dinner.



After a quiet dinner, we returned to our "stoop" across from Don Moises' place. We were hanging out with some of our new pals, a pair of traveling friends who'd met on the road. Our street was narrow, and the cars would pull up and park on the side, making the way through tight.

At one point, similar to other moments, a car pulled up and the driver jumped out to go to the tiny bodega next to where we were sitting. It was where we were buying our beers for the stoop sessions. It was everyone was buying their beers, actually.

Well, this driver blocked a little too much of the road. One car was able to pass, but the next car in line was a bigger truck, and the driver was yelling a bit. It was jovial, but annoyed. Horns started honking.

The minutes ticked off the clock...six...seven...maybe even eight. Voices that were just jokingly mad were becoming the real thing. As we talked we were looking around for the driver. It seemed he was doing something more involved than just getting supplies.

Eventually the guy came out of the bodega. Things didn't look like they were going to go well when I noticed a pistol jutting out of his pants. I shook my head as the truck's driver started mouthing off.

The armed gentleman tossed his gear into his car, then pulled out his pistol, flipped the safety off and brandished it at the trucks tires. This was about three feet away from us. He made motions like he was going to shoot out the tires, then he put the gun back into his pants.

As he was getting into his car, the truck driver yelled something else, maybe something like "That's not a real gun!" or "That's not really loaded!" The guy stopped, pulled out the pistol, and fired four shots straight up into the air.

Some people flinched or took cover. I remained still, but my ears were ringing. It's not that the gun, which was a 9mm, was very loud. They were just pops really, but the concussive nature of the popping hurt everyone's ears.

The guy drove off, and the truck driver tried to reassure us that he knew the other guy, and he was just a joker. But that same driver then just parked instead of going on and continuing with his night's activities.

Corrie said that that had been "the most reckless discharge of a firearm she'd ever seen".

I snatched up one of the shells as a keepsake.