I shall relate to you an incident which occurred just after midnight, Sunday, 01 February 2009 (actual date and time).After a late show at Regal Theater I drove to Denny’s Restaurant (2890 Ridge Road West) for a late dinner. I am a regular customer at this restaurant, having dinner there at least once a week for the past nine years. Entering the parking lot I drove toward the disabled parking spaces and backed into the first unoccupied space.
As I was parking my car I observed in my rear view mirror two uniformed individuals exiting the restaurant. Setting the gear to park, I observed the shorter individual take a position behind and to the passenger’s side of my car. He stood at a slight angle with his right hand on his weapon, prepared to draw and fire.
WFKL Radio began playing “Carnival” as I applied balm to my lips. My car was still running and I was alone, with my hands, head and face in full view. I now observed the taller man, approaching the car directly. His right hand was set on his weapon while his left hand shone a flashlight through each of my car windows in turn as he approached my door.
Lip balm in hand, I reached for and toggled the switch to lower the glass, opening the window. “Is there a problem?” I asked.
This man reflected the light off my rearview mirror to blind my eyes. “You don’t have a handicapped sticker,” he answered.
Perturbed, I replied, “Really?” And, with my open right hand directed his attention to my visor where my disabled parking permit is customarily and was presently stowed. “I Haven’t Got Out Of The Car Yet,” I continued. Then, re-toggling the switch, I closed the window.
As I listened to the completion of “Carnival” the two men retreated from me and my car then reentered the restaurant. When the song was completed, I turned off the engine, hung my permit from the rear view mirror and exited the vehicle.
On four legs, I made my way to the door and entered the restaurant. Inside, with a normal pace, I approached the two individuals who had approached my vehicle and falsely accused me of a parking violation.
“What’re your names,” I asked in a normal tone.
The taller of the two, averted my gaze but turned his right breast toward me. On it was a tag displaying the moniker “R. Huff”. His partner, belligerently, declared, “We don’t have to give you our names.”
“What you did was wrong,” I told them. “You had no right to approach me with your guns. I didn’t do anything wrong.” The belligerent man avoided my every attempt to view his name tag. The uniforms the men wore appeared to be nothing more than black jeans (or slacks) and a black shirt with a simple name tag on the right breast, some sort of rank insignia on the right shoulder and a logo of some kind. There was nothing bright or easily observed about the shirt. Still, I did notice each of the men also had some kind of white card on their left breast, facing backward and obscured by the flap of the shirt pocket. They each wore belts bearing a gun, a flashlight and [I presume from the shape at the back] handcuffs.
I moved away from the men and took a step toward the registers. The belligerent man stepped in front of me, less than a foot away, with his arms outstretched to his sides, a barrier erected. “You have to leave,” he told me.
“I’m going to speak to the manager.”
“No. You’re Leaving.”
“Is that right? We’ll see what the manager has to say.” I looked to my left for the attention of Denny’s staff but all were ignoring these gestapo. “I will report this to the manager,” I insisted, standing my ground.
“We don’t work for Denny’s,” boasted the belligerent man. That his employer is some security or protection service I have no doubt; however, that employer’s contract is with Denny’s. And, I’m certain the contract would include a provision for removing customers whose conduct is either violent or disorderly. But, I’m equally certain that contract doesn’t include harassing customers.
These armed men are supposed to keep the peace, not disturb it. They have no police authority. They have no right to deny me either entrance or seat. They have no right to refuse to provide their names, submit themselves to complaint. They had neither right nor cause to approach my vehicle in such a menacing manner.
“You have no right to do this,” I declared.
“Around here, We Make The Rules,” belligerent man growled. And, “If you don’t leave now we’ll call nine-one-one.”
Standing there I was disappointed by the failure of Denny’s employees to give this gestapo action any attention. More, I realized I was becoming angry. I don’t do well with angry; so, I turned, saying, “I will report you to your boss,” and approached the exit.
Belligerent man, following only a pace behind, bellowed, “I’m the boss, now get out.”
Outside the restaurant, as I neared the curb, belligerent man, stood at the opened door and, with a change of tone, had the audacity to excuse his behavior, “A cop was killed tonight and we’re not taking any chances.”
I stopped, set myself, turned on my heel, and stood on two legs. Sternly, I replied, “I Did Not Kill That Cop. And, I’ll tell you something else, That Cop Wasn’t Killed By A Guy Parking His Car At Denny’s.”
Speaking Frankly by Lewis
