SFGOON
10/01/2008 9:08pm,
So there I was, no ****, walking to my former University in a rough-ish neighborhood. Whence I did come upon a gentleman in his late 50's who had imbibed to excess, soiled himself, received a nasty gash on his forehead and was swearing about un-named "motherfuckers" having robbed him. He was surrounded by a gaggle of teenage ragamuffins, (collectively referred to as "Ave rats,") who were obviously quite concerned. Everyone else was stepping over this gentleman quite perturbed at him for having dared to become injured in their path.
Ave rats typically beg for a living and thus are unable to afford cellphones. I produced mine and dialed "911" to summon the local authorities on this poor man's behalf. I was speaking with the dispatcher about the man's condition and our current whereabouts when said gentleman struggled to his feet.
"gEHTaeWAYFRUMM ME -YOOMOTHURFUKKER!" He screeched. I politely smiled and stepped back and asked him to relax. He began throwing punches in the air then fell back onto his ass - I got to him in time to break his fall a little. He then looks up at me.
"FUHGGOFF!!" and points a grimey finger. I just replied "relax bro, it'll be okay." and prayed to God he didn't decide to spit on me.
He staggers to his feet and throws a punch and me which I evade by taking a small step back. I try not to let my voice change so the dispatcher doesn't ask if I'm being attacked, (I was still on the phone with her - she seemed to be half deaf and irked at me for ruining her afternoon with my whining.) In comes punch number 2 which I allow to connect with my forearm, so he over-commits and falls. On his way down, I grab and guide him to the sidewalk as softly as I can which manages to be pretty soft.
"Sir are you being attacked?" the dispatcher asks?
"Um - no." I lied. "He's just falling down." (plausible deniability. I really didn't want the cops having to come and sort out this idiot who should be under the care of a team of doctors.)
Mr. Gentleman staggers off, up "The Ave" swearing at everyone who crosses his path. I had a feeling he might not like me, so I kept my distance lest he unleash another brutal attack, (he had already had a bad enough day.) He was leaving a trail of blood behind him, grossing out and offending the sorority girls.
As the police arrived, the man howled and pointed at me, claiming I had robbed him. The police didn't even bother to question me, opting instead to secure him in handcuffs for the weary paramedics. He put up the same hilarious fight against the police, who just let him plop to the sidewalk and bash his chin. Since I didn't want to be questioned, (I'm being investigated for a police officer job,) I sauntered off.
Good times.
Ave rats typically beg for a living and thus are unable to afford cellphones. I produced mine and dialed "911" to summon the local authorities on this poor man's behalf. I was speaking with the dispatcher about the man's condition and our current whereabouts when said gentleman struggled to his feet.
"gEHTaeWAYFRUMM ME -YOOMOTHURFUKKER!" He screeched. I politely smiled and stepped back and asked him to relax. He began throwing punches in the air then fell back onto his ass - I got to him in time to break his fall a little. He then looks up at me.
"FUHGGOFF!!" and points a grimey finger. I just replied "relax bro, it'll be okay." and prayed to God he didn't decide to spit on me.
He staggers to his feet and throws a punch and me which I evade by taking a small step back. I try not to let my voice change so the dispatcher doesn't ask if I'm being attacked, (I was still on the phone with her - she seemed to be half deaf and irked at me for ruining her afternoon with my whining.) In comes punch number 2 which I allow to connect with my forearm, so he over-commits and falls. On his way down, I grab and guide him to the sidewalk as softly as I can which manages to be pretty soft.
"Sir are you being attacked?" the dispatcher asks?
"Um - no." I lied. "He's just falling down." (plausible deniability. I really didn't want the cops having to come and sort out this idiot who should be under the care of a team of doctors.)
Mr. Gentleman staggers off, up "The Ave" swearing at everyone who crosses his path. I had a feeling he might not like me, so I kept my distance lest he unleash another brutal attack, (he had already had a bad enough day.) He was leaving a trail of blood behind him, grossing out and offending the sorority girls.
As the police arrived, the man howled and pointed at me, claiming I had robbed him. The police didn't even bother to question me, opting instead to secure him in handcuffs for the weary paramedics. He put up the same hilarious fight against the police, who just let him plop to the sidewalk and bash his chin. Since I didn't want to be questioned, (I'm being investigated for a police officer job,) I sauntered off.
Good times.