Hot Potato

In my lungs that is.

Boise isn't the seediest town in the world but we do occasionally get high profile crimes (such as our recent beheading/vehicular homicide).

Last night, police shut down a neighborhood where a guy had barricaded himself in his house and said he had a bomb. We later found out he had likely killed his wife and himself.

While we were on the scene, there were about a dozen gunshots, which turned out to a cop firing tear gas into the house to flush the guy out (they didn't yet know he was dead). Soon after, a line of cops walked quickly away from the scene. I figured they were wrapping up but, in fact, a breeze had picked up the tear gas and they were getting the hell out of there.

We were warned the cloud of gas was heading towards us and, being the intrepid (stupid) reporter that I am, I stayed so I could see what it's like to be tear gassed.

It sucks.

Sure enough, tear gas works. It sears your eyeballs (it's especially fun when it gets inside your contacts) and burns the ever living fuck out of your throat and lungs. I nearly yacked while stumbling blindly into a nearby store to escape.

When that cloud hit everyone scattered, cop, TV news vermin and gawker alike. I took the greatest pleasure in the fact that the tear gas hit right when several stations were doing live shots.

So next time you're throwing folding chairs into a McDonald's window outside the G-8 or burning cars after the Raiders win the big one (right about never), you can rest assured when that little metal canister tinks off the pavement that yes, indeed, tear gas truly blows.