Chattanooga Pulse

Written by Alex Teach
Wednesday, 05 November 2008 14:19

I was running around the corner, being careful not to slide in the gravel as I went from paved sidewalk to graveled alleyway. Boots may appear universal in their applications, but running is clearly not one of those applications, and polyester is no more impressive a fashion statement than it is protection when grinding sideways against the ground. I wanted the arrest, but not the road rash that would go with it if I pushed my luck. I had time.

Street-level drug dealers are only a symptom of quality of life issues I prefer to address directly, rather than chasing every little pill pusher in sight, only to have him released before my shift ends. I have no desire to pursue them on foot any more than I wish to reduce my carbon footprint by selling my car and cycling to work, but Mr. Patten had been leaning into a car window this breezy summer evening dispensing narcotics to its driver when I cruised past. We had made eye contact as I witnessed the transaction. This wasn’t my “thing”, but when you do it in front of me? Well. There are Rules.