First there was one…then there were two…
Both sitting or standing out in front of Greek restaurants a walking distance apart from each other. Both establishments a walking distance from where I live – both are restaurants that Steve and I frequent.
One old woman, one old man. They’re the bombs. At two Greek restaurants.
Both establishments are on main roads with lots of foot traffic, car, bicycle and bus traffic and store fronts.
What are the odds?
Both the woman and the man probably live on the same blocks as the Greek restaurants they sit in front of or stand in front of to smoke their cigarettes while administering themselves oxygen via a large tank of oxygen and nose catheters. Day after day after day.
They go into their respective restaurants, sit, eat, drink a beverage, talk to the staff, then go outside with their tanks in tow to smoke, where everybody who passes by on foot, in a car, on a bicycle or on a bus sees them – like clockwork. Day after day after day.
Nobody says anything.
One day I went into Walgreens and saw a person who works at one of the restaurants and in front of a cashier spoke briefly about it. He didn’t much care for me to do that since he’s a friend of hers. I’ve seen him hug her, so they must at least know each other. He also was buying a pack of cigarettes and probably thought I was making a statement about her smoking.
Frankly, I don’t care who smokes. It’s legal and it’s not my business. I did bring it up in public though, hoping maybe he’d have a chat with her about her exposing herself as a potential target for a terrorist attack.
What? Jihadists don’t use public transportation? There are no Jihadists in Cleveland or Lakewood or anywhere along those two routes? Clifton Boulevard and Detroit Ave. They drive cars, take buses, ride bicycles and walk. Just like everybody else. In fact they’re just like everybody else, except they have an agenda to blow things and people up when they least expect it.
Often times when the opportunity expresses itself, so do they.
Is this my lucky day or what, says the wanna-be Jihadist? I don’t even have to build a bomb. That feeble woman and feeble man down the street, are my bombs. Imagine what I could do? And they go in and out of the same restaurants. In and out, in and out, all day.
You can’t miss them.
Bingo. Bomb. Bye Bye Birdie – and all the birdies around them.
See something? Say something and it gets ignored with rolling eye balls, making you look like a fool to care?
Then take a picture and publish it.
See something? Take a picture.