Active Shooter!….or, Won’t Someone Please Think of the Children???
As I predicted, the local school shooter thing from yesterday turned out to be a hoax. I couldn’t resist tormenting my coworkers about it.
As soon as the facts (if such things are remotely possible in today’s media) began to spill out, my coworkers were all in a rage about how the hoaxer, a high school kid, should be tarred and feathered, etc. etc. etc. During a lull in their clucking, I spoke up.
“I don’t believe it was a hoax. In fact, I know it wasn’t a hoax.”
They all looked at me. “Why would you say that?” asked one, who had been particularly hysterical yesterday while the news was breaking.
“Because,” I said, “You yourself said a friend of yours on Facebook told you that she saw bodies being carried out of the school. And you –” I said, pointing at another of them, “Your cousin’s hairdresser’s best friend’s plumber actually heard the shots, because he lives next to the school, right?”
They started putting their eyes down on their desks, concentrating mightily on their work. I wasn’t done.
Turning to a third, I said, “And you. Your brother’s wife’s nurse knew the kid who shot his girlfriend and then turned the gun on himself, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
No eye contact. No response.
“So, there’s no WAY this was a hoax. All of you know someone who was an eyewitness, or is close to someone who was there. That’s a lot of compelling evidence. Hoax? No way. It sounds like a conspiracy. This is the sort of thing where the corruption goes all the way to the top. I’m looking forward to reading the indictments and the investigative summary. Do any of you know any of the detectives in charge?”
I’ve experienced the chill when I’ve sensed that another human being has wished me dead. I know what it feels like. And when I left work today, I knew with pristine confidence that an entire office full of women were wishing me dead.
Who knows? They might get their wish. An active shooter (as opposed to an inactive one) might show up tomorrow and starting blasting away at me. If this happens, I’m confident that one of my coworkers will post it on Facebook. The police might even want to talk to my mechanic or my postman. I’m sure they’ll tell a good story.
~ S.K. Orr