We can't get out.
We'd thought nothing of the sirens blaring on the street as we entered the chocolatier's boutique on the far end of Dunedin's fashionable shopping district. Little did we know that a drama was unfolding in the heart of downtown. A drama shrouded in mystery…well…sort of.
After Colter and his friend tasted some fudge, and Julie had peered into the window of the "Shoppe" next door that sold "Krunchy Kookie Bouquets," we headed back toward where we parked on the side of Main Street. As we drew nearer, we saw fire trucks blocking in our car along with all of the other cars parked on the street. So Instead of heading in to the middle of the mayhem, we stopped to get an ice cream in an old railway car.
The door was open, but the proprietor was nowhere to be seen. Soon I saw her coming up the walk from the direction of the excitement. She lumbered up the steps, went behind the counter and made change for the ice cream. Then eagerly reported what the commotion was all about.
Apparently a harmless and homeless man who frequents the posh streets stepped out of character and became belligerent with tourists, then violently refused to cooperate with the police. He was summarily Tasered…in the groin. And, as if that weren't exciting enough, the officers on the scene were joined by four additional police cars, a paramedic ambulance, and two fire-trucks, (a pumper-truck, and a hook-and-ladder.)
So, how much of this can we believe? All of it is hearsay, or at best secondhand information. We don't know who the ice cream seller had talked with and how much she had actually seen. When we arrived there was only one cop car, one ambulance and two fire trucks. That much I know.
So, after the street was clear and we were on our way, Julie decided to give the kids a short civics lesson. "This," she said "is why newspapers were first printed, to give people a reliable source of news."
And all this time I thought they were published to broaden the sponsor's advertising base.