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Jack in the Crack

B and I ate at Jack in the Box (my nickname for it is "Jack in the
Crack," not very appetizing but funny) for lunch. Although my tiny town
of Santa Paula has its own JITB, we like to go to the one in the next
town.

There’s something strange about that JITB, we always see
something strange or someone we know. Several of B’s family members had
Post Office boxes across the street so we’d run into them all the time.
Sometimes if we spotted them while eating we’d call them.

The
strangest thing that happened there was a purse jacking. I was at the
counter waiting for my food and a mother went up as well to complain
about her burger. While we were up there, we heard her kids yell "He
took your purse!!!"

I looked around but couldn’t see anyone,
then a car pealed out and hauled ass down the street and took off.
Luckily the children were OK but the mom was very shaken up. I didn’t
wait around for the cops since there were other witnesses.

Today there were no great surprises but I eyeballed everyone in the place just in case.

~~~Originally posted at NaBloPoMo on July 8, 2008~~~

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