|
12:28 a.m. on 2002-05-03 So here's the abbreviated version of what happened on Tuesday.... My mother came over to my place and trouble often follows her. I don't know why, but the cops usually show up wherever she goes, because she knows alot of them....not that this is really a horrible thing, but try growing up going to precinct council meetings. Snooze. Anyway, We decided around 3pm to go for a walk. Up until this point, there had been NO altercations involving the police, so I thought I was in the "clear" so to speak. I was wrong. VERY wrong. We hit Ave M and as we approach the sidewalk, three old ladies are strolling towards us, hardly at brisk paces. All of a sudden, some guy runs up behind one of the ladies and hits her in the back of the head, full force. She flies forward and bashes her face against the ground. All of the befuddled morons on Ave M are looking around saying, "Oh my god...what happened..." Nobody is helping this lady, so I told my mom to help her. I barely thought about what I was doing and threw my sandals off and took off after the guy. It was a funny sight...me and my spiderman tee shirt, running through the traffic on Ave M (Amazingly, my feet came out of this two block sprint unscathed.) I got around to Ocean Ave within about ten feet of the guy, when I realized something was REALLY wrong. What was wrong? Well, he was calmly walking away, without an ounce of distress in his bounce. You see, I figure that I guy who just clubbed an old lady and robber her would be running like hell...but not him. So I inch closer and realize that he is a rather big guy...he has like two inches on me and he is built like an ox. No lie, I haven't been involved in hand to hand fisticuffs since maybe the 10th grade when my brother still took pride in handing my ass to me. I'm not a fighter. I have, on the otherhand, played football for many years...mostly as a fullback in pickup tackle games. The fullback is essentially the decoy for the running back...aka The Tackling Dummy. So, I can take a body hit, and I can throw one...but if fists come-a-flyin', I'm about as sure a thing in the world of fighting as Woody Allen. Fight or Flight responses are kamming my circuits. In retrospect, I realize if I had my shoes on, the oaf would've heard me and pounded me one. So I hit him just like any poor fullback would: head up, shoulders in...the intitial impacthe was pushed forward and lost his balance, but i never stopped and grabbed his back and threw him forward. He landed on his head, which skipped forward, and in the most comical aspect, it landed again right on a watermelon rind. He jumped up and his head was bleeding. The following is a basic transcript of what transpired: Him: Who are you...what the fuck are you doing? (He throws a punch, and to my shock, misses very badly) Me: Why did you hit that lady? Him: The government is putting drugs into my body and they control my muscles and I can't help what I do. Me: so what did you take from her? Him: Nothing...she taunts my mother and picks on her (mind you, this lady was at youngest, 85) I have a knife and I can't control myself At this point, I went to go call 911 as I wasn't willing to get jigged over this. Some Puerto Rican dude asks me why I let him get away. I told him that the guy has a knife and I'm calling 911. He says he is going to stop the guy at the corner. My mom comes with my sandles and the cops came shortly thereafter. The guy goes into the whole thing with the cops about the gov't etc. The cuff him. Here's where the story sucks. The lady never saw him, saw they had to let him go. No jail, no institution, nothing. Ahhh, the system sucks.
in the slammer - up for parole CLIX |
