MedWheeler
Member
Sitting in a BK lounge while off duty (I was in LE at the time.).. a young punk passed me while exiting the store to a car parked just outside the window I was seated at. Before he got in the car, he made eye contact with me, then produced what he wanted me to believe was a switchblade, and started waving it to get my attention. Because he was keeping the back of the "blade" toward me (and because I had had one myself as a kid!), I knew it was really a comb. I threw my leg up onto the table, causing my pant cuff to ride up some and expose the .38 snubbie on my ankle. He immediately began to grin sheepishly and run his fingers along the teeth of the comb to show me what it really was. I then made a running motion with my fingers, essentially telling him to "run along, little boy!", and had a little laugh to myself.