Angry confrontations. Those of you who might know me, understand that I'm not really a "fighter." I roll with the punches. I sway in the breeze. It takes a lot to really rattle me and if you do get to that point, well, you'll probably never know. Probably because I don't raise my voice and holler. I just move on.
I've described those stereotypical City Moments when I have observed angry people really letting it go. The can scream, holler, rant and curse. Today was my day to join them. Allow me to set the stage:
Across the street from our house, right by the elevated platform for the S-train, there is an open, grassy lot. Because of the demographics of our neighborhood, the lot tends to be dirty. Over the course of the several months that we lived there, the lot became absolutely filthy. Finally, about three weeks ago, a big trash truck backed onto the sidewalk and men started bagging and removing all of the trash. It was a big job and took most of the day.
This morning as I was walking to work, I saw a man with a bag of trash walking towards the lot. I walked past him and turned to watch him put the bag in the gap between the chain link fence in front of the lot.
"HEY! This is my neighborhood, man! Do NOT dump your stuff there!"
I could have really gone to town on the guy but he immediately grabbed the bag, turned around and followed me. He didn't have any front teeth and his dirty blonde hair (in ever sense of the phrase) was almost shoulder length.
"thorry man. I wathn't going to dump it there. I was just going to leave it while I ran an errand."
I just kept walking.
"Man. I don't dump trash. I wath jutht leaving it there for a minute... thee?" He drops the bag into one of the public trash bins as we walk by a bus stop.
I still don't say anything. I jaywalk acroth--- damn it--- across the street and head down into the subway, leaving him to protest his innocence.
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