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This is a true story told to me by a district attorney who asked not to be named. It happened at a Santa Monica Beach around 1997.

The district attorney was walking his dog late at night on a deserted beach. Coming toward him from the other direction was a rough looking man whom the D.A. recognized as a career gang member who he had sent up to San Quentin for 10 years on an assault and robbery charge. The ex-felon was a big man covered with tattoos. The D.A. was of medium height, with a paunchy stomach, balding, with glasses, and looked more like an accountant than a high-powered D.A.

As the gang member approached, he was scrutinizing the D.A. carefully. He stopped in front of him and said in a tough voice, "Hey, I know you!"

The D.A. answered in a low growl, "Yeah, well I know you too."

The gang member said, "So where from?"

The D.A. snarled, "L-block, San Quentin."

The gang member's face changed completely.

"Yeah, bro'?" he asked sympathetically. "So how's it going?"

"How the fuck do you think it's going?" the D.A. snarled with a grimace.

The gang member slapped the D.A. on the back and said, "Hang in there, bro'" and went on his way.

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