The Adventures of "Dirty Joe" Callihan. Joe Callihan
THE ADVENTURES OF
“DIRTY JOE”
CALLIHAN
By: Joe Callihan
Copyright 2011 Joe Callihan,
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0391-5
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. No patent liability is assumed with respect to the use of information contained herein. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
THE ADVENTURES OF “DIRTY JOE” CALLIHAN TABLE OF ADVENTURE CONTENT
INTRODUCTION
Although today I am primarily a Christian author, seeking to expose and disclose the vast differences between having religious beliefs about God, and sharing in a restored loving relationship with God, which Jesus our Messiah came to restore for us by the shedding of His pure and holy blood. However, I come from a background of a career in retail sales. Through my years of experience I have managed departments in stores, as well as moderate size stores; during which time I have partaken in a rich variety of numerous adventures.
In the two books I have written, I’ve endeavored to expound upon the many adventures I encountered and the differing characters I've had to deal with. In this my first book, I will tell mainly of my convenience store experiences. But will also relate some of the experiences I encountered with various characters while working in other retail stores.
It is my hope every reader will find these adventures to be enjoyable entertainment as well as a source of information. Should you wish I would be most thrilled if you were to advise others of what good reads the adventures of “Dirty Joe” Callihan are. Through the years it has come to be my belief that nothing is better nor more economically sound, than word of mouth advertising. This kind of advertising comes from the heart. It cannot be bought with money, it must be earned. Earning your eagerness to advertise my book(s) is my goal! Your efforts to inform others will be my reward.
I wish to thank you for having purchased this, my first of two books telling of the adventures of “Dirty Joe” Callihan. I leave you now, that you may begin sharing in these adventures with me.
Chapter One
How I Got The Name “DIRTY JOE”
The year was 1971. I had gotten off active duty with the Navy in 1969, and was in the process of pursuing a degree in business administration at the local St. Petersburg Junior College. Being a full-time student I used the benefit of the G.I. Bill for my tuition. I sought to find a weekend job which would allow me money for the necessities of life, including dating expenses.
However, as it was difficult to attain an employer willing to allow me to schedule my work load in accordance with my needs as a student, the field of possible employers narrowed to only the Little General convenience store. They had agreed with me to cooperate, allowing me time off to study for important exams. Other employers had made it very clear to me that I was to be their slave, demanding I work as scheduled, offering no allowance for my need to study for exams.
As a result I began working weekends only at Little General convenience company stores. During this time of my employment there were two different bad guys going around holding up convenience store operators. One chose to throw diluted muriatic acid into the eyes of the employee, and then came around to help himself to the contents of the register. The other low-grade moron chose to carry a loaded gun. When the store employee, either male or female, willingly gave him the money without any hassle, before he would leave, this imbecile would either shoot the employ in the arm or leg, or would pistol whip them. (Please, if you're the kind of imbecile that believes in doing holdups, and are reading this, don't try doing likewise. I can assure you there is someone like me out there who will blow your stupid head off, and feel happy about it).
Now I didn't have respect for or appreciate either of these morons. Being an Irish Kentuckian, possessing the temper which goes along with that, I felt it was my responsibility should I run into either one, to make them pay a very heavy price for their stupidity, should they try their plan on me?
I like to preface the following by inserting the fact that I was 27 years old at the time this incident took place. Looking back now, I realize what they say is true: you tend to do very stupid things and take chances when you are young. I happened to possess a brace of Colt Derringer's, his having a black chromium barrel with a walnut handle. Hers was gold plated with a pearl handle. The main problem was they were single shot 22 short.
What did that matter to me? I wanted protection which I could easily conceal and I wanted any vicious bad guy who desired making me a victim to pay a very serious price! Little did I realize at the time, but having only one shot against a revolver or an automatic, I'd better make it count really big. Likewise, it did not enter my mind until too late, that a 22 short caliber bullet is not much more than a glorified BB gun. Nevertheless I chose to carry in my pocket for protection his version, which was loaded with one 22 short bullet.
This was the setting for how the legend began, and I received the nickname “Dirty Joe” Callihan. Every word I am about to tell you is true, I need use no exaggeration to tell the factual story of what happened. I was working in a neighborhood which contained lower to middle class families. It was very early on a Sunday morning. In fact, just shortly after 7A.M. the time we opened. Businesses that early on a Sunday was always slow. You hardly ever had the first customer until after 8 A.M.
I had only opened the doors, and had gotten behind the square arrangement of counters, having just an open space for me to get inside and out from behind the rows of counters which were located in the middle of the store. There were two registers, one on the right side the other on the left. I heard the bells jingle, as the front door opened. In walked three hippies, having all of the accoutrements, long stringing hair, grubby beards, and jean vest (not to mention the immediate unpleasant odor).
Two of them immediately went to the magazine stand at the front left side of the store, and began browsing. The third, which had sandy blond hair, and stood about 5 foot 9 inches tall, walked toward the left counter where I was standing. With a big and friendly smile I asked, “How can I help you today?” To which he loudly replied with, “Alright, this is a hold up! Take all the money out of the register now!” As he made his “request,” he moved his right hand, which was behind his back, up and down, but not pulling out a gun.
Noticing this fact, grinning I said, “You’ve got to be kidding?” He only yelled out saying, “There’s no reason for you to be happy. This is a hold up. Now get the money out of the register!” Again, all the while he was moving his right hand up and down behind his back. “You have GOT TO BE PUTTING ME ON!” I said with confidence. Yelling even louder, this time angry, the punk said, “I haven’t got time to talk with you. Get the damn money out of the register, and put it on the counter – NOW!” as he was still moving his hand up and down behind his back.
“I was just wondering when someone was going to come along and take all of this nice money away from me.” (Only $75.00 Idiot! We had just opened, and you morons were my first customers)! At this, he seemed to have lost it. Eyes wide, and stomping his foot on the floor he shouted, “Don’t you believe this is a real hold up?” “No I don’t," I answered. Then I chose to challenge his bluff, thinking, if you don’t have a gun you’re in trouble, because I do! So I said, “If this is a real hold up – where’s your gun?”
Responding to my challenge, he