December 26, 2007
Homeless Abuse
Receiving from, I mean.
I was chilling out at the bus stop, listening to Yeasayer's "All Hour Cymbals" album (fucking great, check it out), and just trying to wake up before hopping on the cattle car to the cubicle farm.
I noticed a tall, wild-haired man loping down the sidewalk, making a beeline toward me. He had a slight wobble to his walk, and his jaundiced eyes basically telegraphed the fact that the guy was completely shithoused. I turned my attention back to the approaching traffic, paying him no mind. Moments later, I smelled the stench of sour beer, stale sweat, piss, and a twinge of vomit. Someone started yelling at me, and as I turned around I realized that it was the guy. He had a few inches and about 50 extra pounds up on me.
"You. You're not going to stop me. You're a demon, and I'm going to get rid of you."
Before I could even muster an incredulous "What?" he stepped forward and shoved me. I wanted to grab my shit and run, but I didn't have time. He came at me again, babbling and angry. I grabbed him by his shoulders, driving him backwards as I slipped my right leg behind his legs.
If he wasn't completely drunk, I would have been fucked.
Thankfully, his equilibrium was off from the booze, and I basically sat him down (very hard) on the pavement. I snatched up my stuff, yanked my cellphone from my pocket, and picked the local LAPD station number out of my list of contacts while getting the fuck away from this guy.
I made it to the other bus stop a few blocks away, completely out of breath. A dispatcher finally answered. I gave her the guy's physical description and where I last saw him as I leapt onto the bus. She stated that there was a cruiser in the area and they would do a quick run-through to see if they could pick him up. I thanked her and hung up as soon as she asked if I wanted to press charges, stopping to slather antibacterial hand wash all over my hands, forearms, and phone.
'Fuck that, I'm not going to press charges on someone who's obviously deranged and homeless', I thought. 'I'd just rather they hang onto him for a bit until he sobers up and chills out and doesn't attack anyone else.'
Needless to say, I had one hell of an excuse for being late to work this morning.
Posted by Jake at December 26, 2007 09:02 PM
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