Doggie Bag
Walking home from my restaurant job, I was held at knifepoint.
One thing saved me.By DEBORAH ROSE, Jefferson, Wisconsin
Tuesday night was chicken night at the restaurant where I worked as a waitress, but on this Tuesday few customers ordered it. "Take some home," said the manager. The chicken was greasy, so I wrapped it in plastic, a box and a bag.
The last customers lingered, and we closed late. Missing the last bus, I began walking home through deserted Milwaukee streets. Unable to afford a cab, I prayed and sang a hymn. God would see me home safely.
But he didn't. A man with a knife leaped out of the shadows, pushed me down a dark side street, and spoke in ugly language of what he'd do when we reached his place on Brady Street ... Read more
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