> call law enforcement [...] you shouldn't do that unless you're willing to accept any result including you and yours getting killed by the police
Then I, in turn, am fascinated about that other particular fact of your country.
Then I, in turn, am fascinated about that other particular fact of your country.
If that was a reasonable fear, then there would be tens of thousands of police shootings every single day. Every single cop would have to shoot somebody a couple of times a week, versus in reality where most will never fire a gun in anger in their entire career, and will probably be off for weeks after a shooting even if it was squeaky clean.
In reality, driving a car to work is many times more dangerous than pretty much anything else you could ever do, yet most of the US does it every day without a second thought. Maybe try applying some rational skepticism to the news?
Getting shot, let alone killed, is a very unlikely outcome (although a lot more likely for your dogs, if you have any), but there are so many bad outcomes calling the police should still be avoided.
You might want to read Arrest-Proof Yourself: An Ex-Cop Reveals How Easy It Is for Anyone to Get Arrested, How Even a Single Arrest Could Ruin Your Life, and What to Do If the Police Get in Your Face; I did after a cop in my fairly small home city played a game of chicken with his car and my body. Best guess, as suggested by the book, is that he was trying to generate arrest and charge statistics; the book's thesis is that with the sharp downturn in crime, what I call the police-judicial complex needs a steady diet of "the clueless" to run through the system, else there would be widespread layoffs.
Pedestrians are uncommon here, and I guess he thought I might be an easy mark, the moment he saw me he jerked his steering wheel towards me and kept the new heading. Having learned to be a pedestrian in the Boston area, the sort of thing I'm pretty sure is not true for most of the other pedestrians in the city, I could tell his car and side mirror would miss me by a foot, less for the mirror, and successfully stared him down (probably makes a difference that while not part of the official South, this bit of SW Missouri is part of the cultural south, and my mom is Cajun).