Boy, this view is somewhat jarring:
They call this thing a “turret?”
I don’t know.
(Two words, Man: Omega Man.)
Well here’s the MacGuffin, what the drama the other day at the “ghetto Lucky” on Fulton near Masonic was all about – a 1.75 litre bottle of Old Whiskey River Whiskey from (Willie) Nelson County, Kentucky.
I heard you’re supposed to get a Willie Nelson guitar pick attached to the neck of every bottle of this brand of six-year-old Bourbon, but I didn’t see it:
Click to expand
Anyway, that was what was dropped outside of the Lucky on Saturday, just by the eastern entrance.
And just beyond that towards the street was this scene. Can you see the little dude wrapping his arms around the legs of the big guy? I think that’s what they call tactics:
And then ka-thud on the sidewalk of Fulton:
Out come the handcuffs from the undercover agent (called “the L.T.” [lieutenant?] by Lucky employees):
And then it’s past the place where the shoplifted whiskey got dropped and back into the store to wait for the SFPD. Just another day in Paradise south of McBaker and west of the HayBro, just another day in the NoPA, Western Addition, San Francisco, California, USA:
Does this particular Lucky lose lots of alcohol on lazy Saturday and Sunday afternoons?
Well, considering that Lucky hires people just to lie in wait for shoplifters, I’d say yes.
Take it away, Mo:
Learn to love me
Assemble the ways
Now, today, tomorrow and always
My only weakness is a listed crime
My only weakness is … well, never mind, never mind
I don’t know why people call Crazy Rob Anderson’s Lucky on Fulton, you know, the one across the street from internationally famous Papalote and the locally-famous shut-down NoPA cathouse, and the clubhouse of the local Woman’s Temperance Union* yeah, that Lucky, on the 5 Fulton, anyway, don’t know why people call it “ghetto” just because it’s not a Whole Foods or something. There’s nothing wrong with it, excepting for the occasional pigeon invasion.
Anyway, turned out that dude got a hold of $150 worth of alchyhol but couldn’t escape the joint so he started running laps through the checkout stands, apparently.
After getting tripped up by an employee and tackled by four dudes, it was off to the hoosegow:
And if you were hankering for some delicious purple-blue-yellow cake, well they were all fall down, all akimbo due to the fracas, so oh well.
*This Lucky has to stop selling alcohol before 9:55PM. Why? Why not. Ask the fucking Ladies’ Temperance Union / “NoPA” NOPNA Homeowner’s Association – they like making rules for others to live by, maybe they made that one too.
It was on in the SOMA area yesterday at Citizen Space. The order of the day was four hours of cupcake presentation and consumption.
The competition was tough:
Mmmmm…? Maple bacon.
Muchas gracias to organizer Ariel Waldman and all those who chipped in.
See you next year!