Last night I walked home from work. As I do almost every night I work until 8. Nobody tell my mum, please. Everything was going according to plan. I was following my route. Walk in a straight line, intersection, straight line, right, intersection, little more straight line, left. I was really cold because I had forgotten to pack a cardigan in my hazy state I tend to leave for work in but you know, I was tough. I didn't look like that vulnerable, as far as I go. So I'm just after Intersection #1, and some guy stops me. I had my iPod on as I do and he waves me down, does the obnoxious "take your earphones out" gesture. Not cool. He was halfway through his sentence before I even make eye contact.
"Where's a phone?"
"Huh, I don't know. Oxford Street, I suppose."
"What's Oxford Street?"
"That... street down there."
"I don't want to go to the city."
"It's not the city. It's not that far."
"Well, I need to make a call. I need to use a... I don't know what they're called anymore. Phone cab?"
"Payphone... well, I don't know what to tell you. I don't know a closer one, sorry."
"Can I borrow yours then?"
"No, I don't... have one. Sorry!"
"You must..."
So this is where I broke into a quick step. Luckily, he wasn't blocking my path or use I would have really been concerned. Worst noteven robbery attempt ever. And as I skipped homeward I wondered just what in the hell this guy needed to do with a phone. He had no car. He was alone on a footpath. He seemed pretty sober. But he was fucking frantic. I'm a little worried, to be perfectly honest.
Then again. I suppose I'm not.
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3 months ago
1 comments:
Replace your iPod with a gun.
I realize that I’ll be painted as “The Ugly American” for even suggesting such a thing but in tight spots like the one you describe…well, there’s little else that provides the kind of confidence that the heavy pull and Deathy weight of gun can give you.
While I, myself, don’t carry or even own a “real” gun…I really don’t venture into Dangerous Territory anymore. So I really don’t need one. But I’m all for having one when you need it.
Beauty and poetry and music and art and writing and filling our days and lives with song and adventure are well and good and things that are worth living for…but they’ll mean precious little when you’re dead on the street after a random attack because some speed freak decided that his Urgent Call was more important than your life.
Don’t forget the bullets.
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