Boom!

Ah, yesterday was a fun day in the world. I was all set to leave the office, bags gathered, kicky sunglasses applied to face, visions of a dip in the pool already swimming in my little head, when...
i got sent to cover the most ridiculous story. Apparently, this old man collects things from his apartment complex dumpsters to sell at flea markets and was carting around a collection of old explosives and a detonator in his van for two weeks. He says he didn't know what they were. Took them to the flea market yesterday, only to find out from another old fellow that he was carting around volatile explosives, DROVE THEM HOME, then called the police to come get rid of them.
So, the police depts, sheriff's depts of two counties, the bomb squad, called in from the other side of the metropolitan area, and bomb sniffing dogs are gathered across the complex, milling about aimlessly while ONE MAN SCOOPS UP THE EXPLOSIVES WITH A LITTLE SHOVEL.
And I'm there with my photographer and my notebook, when Steve "I Pee My Pants with Excitement for a Good Crime Story" Jefferson shows up, all-"what's happening? what's up? ooh, what's goin' down?!"
I point to the shovel scoop man, and suddenly things don't look so exciting anymore.
They declared the stuff stable, so we didn't even get to see them detonate it.
Three hours and we got nothin'.

got the sunburn without the workout at janeh928@yahoo.com