SanTana's Boys in Blue Don't Care about Prostitution?
Saturday night, around 9 p.m. Was hanging out at a friend's SanTana business on the outskirts of Floral Park when we saw a car in the darkest section of the parking lot, um, a'rockin. Hey, young lovers need their public areas, but the folks who patronize this cozy corner always leave their used condoms for my pals. It happens.
We'd usually wouldn't give the paramours a second thought...except a guy kept popping in and out, lying down on the hood, and smacking an empty plastic oil can repeatedly. Seemed like a tweaker. My friend figured it was prostitution and called the police department. The friend told the dispatcher she suspected prostitution. The dispatcher said they'd send someone soon.
Five minutes passed. 10. An hour. The night. The cops never came. The weird guy left some minutes after my friend called, but one wonders: where the hell were the cops? Even if it's just down the street from the hacienda of Don Papi Pulido?
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