Last few nights have been pretty uneventful. Got to respond to a shoplift in progress, when I got there, the perp just gave up. Turns out the "gun" he was threatening the cashier with was one of those airsoft guns with the orange tip painted matte black. I found out the clerk actually had an automatic stashed under the counter and was waiting for him to get distracted emptying the till. Smart guy, that's very risky to confront an armed, jumpy assailant, but some of those gas station clerks get so fed up with being easy pickings that, well, you know.
Harry is on his way back, and a good thing, too. Even though Hurricane Irene wouldn't hit where he was that hard travel would've been nigh impossible. His plane is supposed to be here pretty soon, dad's going to pick him up from the airport. If my beat takes me close to home, I'll swing by for maybe five, ten minutes. Just to make sure he's alright.
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