After spending four hours at the Montecito Center for Survivors, I set my massive paperwork, vouchers, complimentary phone with prepaid, trail mix, and water, down so I could go over and get some MREs. Got them, came back, and could not find them. After 45 minutes of looking, I went out to my car to set the MREs down, and went back to find my valuables. Stopped by a gang-banger in green with a gun, refusing to admit me, telling me to come back tomorrow. I told him I was staying 20 minutes away, and that it was like little Tijuana in there, with all kinds of illegals, and t hat if I came back, all those valuables would be 'appropriated'. He refused to budge. I demanded to talk to his commanding officer, in person, or since I am easy, on the phone. He point blank told me 'NO'. Kind of illegal, but doesn't surprise me one bit. I got hoppin mad, and yelled that he is REQUIRED BY LAW to get a super. A bunch of fellow thugs got around me, with their assault batons and artillery, threatening me. He told me to just call the station. I told him that MY PHONE WAS IN THERE. So he told me to just go to the station. I did. They were closed for the weekend. He, of course, knew that and was just trying to get rid of me. One of the victims that he had no intention of helping. See, it turns out that when he was in elementary school, he was the class bully. Now you know where they went to work. The pigs. When I found the station closed, I returned, and walked right past them. Boy, did they get pissed. THey told me if I went in, I would be arrested. I held out my hands, and said 'arrest me. And you will be talked about with your picture, on the web, for this criminal action against the survivors.' He promptly changed his tune, and 'volunteered' to be a good guy, and w ent off looking for my stuff. A volunteer promptly came over and asked me what the problem was, I told her, and she came back with my stuff in five minutes. Never saw the crook again, but I went down to the station to file a complaint. And they apparently filed it in the circular file. Expected. It's an old boys club, and they look out for fellow gang-bangers. But someone else had urged me to file, so I did. Waste of time. They are anything BUT the good guys. That is why I want a gun, because I refuse to call a crook to fight a crook.