So basically, last night I'm standing outside after work [MAX Restaurant] with Laura hanging out... smoking a cig, enjoying my mini wine buzz, when out of frickin NO WHERE this kid comes running out of the restaurant right next door, Maria's Italian Kitchen, with his wrists and ankles and HEAD ducktaped!!!!! We're obviously staring wondering whether this is some kind of weird Mexican joke or ritual that we just don't understand when he sees us and starts pointing frantically towards the kitchen door of Maria's while still running backwards. We stand there, I think a bit shocked, and watch him run down to the end of the alleyway and stand there for a few seconds looking down at us before he runs off down the street.The LAPD tells me that this is not connected to the Ski-Mask bandits and it was a dishwasher and a few friends who tied up the manager and the other dishwasher to rob them. They didn't get away with much and will not be reporting back to work ever again.
A few minutes later another young guy comes just strolling out of the same door like it's nobodies business... So I ask him "Hey... is everything alright? We just saw a guy coming running out all ducktaped. It was kinda weird." He says, "Yeah. Don't know nothing." walks a little ways and then bolts down the street.
Meanwhile, Laura's boyfriend Rich comes out of the restaurant, we tell him what happens, and he basically says, "Bollox." (He's welsh.)
Two minutes after that, the manager of Maria's busts out the backdoor breathless and shaking. "Did you see two guys come running out of here? They tried to break into the safe! They had guns!"
So we're like... what the fuck. We run inside OUR restaurant, get Jan the owner, and we're like,
"oh my god! what do we do?!!?"
"Obviously. Call the cops."
Obviously.
So I do, and all of a sudden I'm in 911 emergency mode.
"Yes. Ma'am? There been an attempted robbery. I'm at Maria's Italian Kitchen. Suspects are one hispanic male ducktaped by the hands, feet and mouth, headingnorth up the alley on foot. Suspect two is wearing a grey hoodie sweatshirt..."
At this point two cops are already walking up and I'm waving them over while still on the phone with the 911 dispatcher.
Me: "There's been a break in!"
Cops: "Hang up the phone."
Me: (into the phone) "Oh my god, two male police officers are walking towards me and told me to hang up the phone. DO I HANG UP THE PHONE?!"
911 dispatcher: "Yes. Hang up the phone."
In a matter of minutes there were about fifteen cops swarming the place, through the restaurant with the heavy aritillery (seriously... one had like a frickin rocket launcher) and finally all out back listening to all our statements for the next half hour.
The funny thing was... major holes in the manager's story. First one gun, then a shotgun, then a pistol. Didn't want to call the police right off the bat. Wasn't shaky until the cops showed up... I personally think it was an inside job and I tell my new friend Ray Guitierrez, the cop, this. He nods and says, "something's fishy."
By the way, this happened on December 15th or so.
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