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Cops in Bars
Big Ron's Baltimore
© 2017 James LaFond
JUN/8/17
The scumbag, former cop who owned the Hub Cap on Belair Road, when I managed the store across the street, and who also beat his wife and adult son, was forever serving steak breakfast to cops when I stopped into have breakfast on my way to work. I managed the store where the steaks had been stolen, by junky thieves who walked across the street and sold them to this piece-of-shit, who would then smile at me at breakfast time and ask if I wanted a steak and egg breakfast, to which I generally grumbled, “Creamed chip beef and eggs,” not having the stomach to eat what one junky ran out the door with under my nose while I was helping my security man arrest some other thief. Of course, the three uniformed cops next to me ate for free. I would pay top dollar. Likewise, on Harford Road, I have seen off duty and retired cops at Brennen’s buying stolen food from a store owned by two friends of mine, who I worked for in 2010 as a consultant. These facts, and the full knowledge that a Baltimore City Police Officer dominated the heroin trade from a bar he owned in South Baltimore, a bar I often ate breakfast at in the late 1990s, has informed this author’s negative view of Baltimore City Police. The first incident below shows the cops interacting as they should in a bar setting. The second story is more typical in Harm City
Brennen’s
My uncle worked there during the day—for eight months to a year. I used to stop in on occasion to speak with him, to keep out an eye in case he needed any help.
He would open it up for Tim. [The Former NFL linebacker who owned the bar.]
He was in there one morning and a guy comes up behind another guy and smashes him in the head with the beer mug. The guy fell and the guy kept slashing him and smashing in his face with the broken off handle, like glass knuckles.
The cops were called and the guy took off running. The cops had to peel the guy off the floor—bleeding all over the place and they never heard what happened to him—ten-eleven o’clock in the morning and this shit is already going down.
The Cop Stop
The Hub Cap, owned by an x-cop—who shorted my wife money when she worked for him was one place you could expect to find cops unwinding.
They were from the Northeast District. The Hub Cap, with the barstools with backs, guys would leave their coats on. This one off-duty cop, he’s running around the bar and his shoulder holster and gun are across the back of the stool! This is a Saturday night. Anybody could have taken his gun. Junkies hung in there.
You had uniformed cops and plain clothes cops, off duty. The city cops there, when off duty, were ridiculous. They bring their wives in there and the next day they bring another woman in there. I ain’t one to talk about it, but the thing is, if you have any class and any respect for your wife or your girlfriend, you don’t bring your girl and your wife to the same place—it’s disrespectful to the wife. They through that consideration off, as cops are already unethical. The media and the government want you to believe that cops are ethical but they’re not. They’ all alcoholics, pwer-drinking assholes that like to beat their women.
The asshole that owned this bar beat his son on the premises and even threw down and got into actual fist fights with patrons while he was running the bar. Then, after he punches somebody, he bounces back behind the bar and starts setting up free drinks and they’re all okay with it. It was his very own kingdom of fools. I told his son he’d have to have it out with his old man but I think the kid just drifted away. The situation with hi owing my wife money, I let him know that I knew and that I didn’t approve. But I didn’t go there. If I beat this asshole up all the cops in the Northeast would have been dancing on my head and he knew it.
This other stooge cop was drunk, twirling his loaded gun and it fell on the floor. Luckily it was a Glock and it didn’t go off. My grandfather that was the bookie, was a bartender. They had their own martial art for throwing people out of bars. They used a sawed down bat.
The Irish method of drinking, salt and beer was somewhat in evidence there.
As for the idiot that owned the bar and kept hitting his wife—first, that’s common among cops, but second, if you’re are not a cop and aren’t connected, you have to leave off the beating of women, because the government will take up her cause, and also because it’s just plain wrong. My father always said that if you’re in a relationship with a woman and it gets to the point where you have to hit her, move on. There’s other women out there.
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