East Oakland residents are disappointed to find out the only “In-N-Out” in the city is cIosing. The popular burger joint blames car break-ins and theft. The restaurant on Oakport Steet is in one of the hotspot areas for cr ime, near 98th Avenue and Hegenberger and it’s an area criminals know they can find unsuspecting tourists coming from the airport.
Although In-N-Out said it’s been a profitabIe location for 18 years, they just can’t ask their employees or customers to work and visit an unsafe environment. While customers aren’t shocked to hear the restaurant is shutting down, many said the city didn’t do enough.
You can’t even leave your car right here to go in there, within one minute your stuff is getting smashed, said Duane Tatum, who was born and raised in East Oakland. The parking Iot is filled with glass.
I love this place. I hate to see it go, said Stanley Simmons, who said his daughter worked at the In-N-Out years ago. On Sunday morning, as In-N-Out executives announced the closure, Oakland police said they arre sted someone for removing an ATM from the wall at the Bank of America less than half a mile away.
Just a couple hundred feet away at the Raising Cane’s on Hegenberger, a manager said the restaurant was forced to cIose their indoor dining area and provide employees with a secure fence for parking, all due to break ins.
It seems like another thing is closing in Oakland, another thing is leaving Oakland, and I get it now – people aren’t trying to deal with this, but we’re the ones, East Oaklanders, that really suffer, said Tatum.
Husband Ridicules Antique Egg Wife Purchased at Flea Market, So She Requests He Unwrap It
My husband once teased me for buying a small enameled egg at a flea market, but he was in for a surprise. I have always loved visiting flea markets, drawn to the idea of sifting through other people’s discarded items to find hidden treasures. This passion started when I was eleven, spending summers with my grandmother in New England. We would explore every flea market and street fair we could find, searching for what she called “preloved jewels”.
Even as a mother and grandmother now, nothing excites me more than rummaging through various stalls, hoping to find something special among the ordinary. My husband, Sam, is a kind and hardworking man, but he doesn’t understand my obsession. He often refers to my finds as “hoarder junk”, which sometimes causes tension between us. Despite his criticisms, I have no intention of giving up my weekend adventures with a budget of $20, determined to uncover a hidden gem.
Recently, Sam surprised me by asking to join me on one of my trips. It all started a month ago when I visited a nearby town’s street fair. I felt a thrill of excitement as I approached a modest display of knickknacks. Among the items was a small porcelain and enamel egg, roughly the size of a real egg. It wasn’t particularly beautiful, but I was drawn to it.
When I asked the seller how much it cost, he said $25. I gasped dramatically and offered him $5. After some back-and-forth, I convinced him to sell it to me for $10, and I felt a sense of victory as I tucked it away. After browsing a bit more, I headed home with my treasure in hand.
When I got home, I greeted Sam, who was skeptical about my find. He turned the egg over in his hands and discovered it was labeled “Made in Hong Kong”. He laughed and said I had been tricked. I felt a wave of disappointment but insisted that I liked it and heard something shifting inside.
With a quick motion, Sam pried the egg open, revealing a tiny bundle of red silk. As I carefully unwrapped it, I discovered a stunning pair of earrings nestled within. Although I initially thought they were just good fakes, Sam was convinced they were real diamonds after testing them with his breath, which didn’t fog up the clear center stone.
Excited, Sam suggested we take the earrings to a jeweler for appraisal. Despite my concern about the cost, we went to the mall, and the jeweler confirmed that they were indeed diamonds set in 18-carat white gold, possibly worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. My head spun when he said they could be valued at around three million dollars at auction.
Incredibly, the earrings sold for three million! We now have a lovely nest egg in the bank, and the porcelain egg proudly sits on the mantel of our new home. Sam, once a skeptic, has become an enthusiastic flea market companion, joining me in the hunt for more treasures. We may not have found that Van Gogh yet, but we remain hopeful!
This story teaches us that one person’s trash can truly become another’s treasure. It also reminds us to respect and support each other’s interests—Sam’s mockery of my hobby turned into appreciation when we discovered the earrings together.
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