I was at loose ends recently and decided to grab a late night drink from one of the ubiquitous American coffee outlets. I headed for the emporium at Robson and Thurlow. I usually park in the alley behind the store where a group of street people often hangs out in the evenings. I've never felt particularly threatened by them, and in fact even developed a casual banter with an older man last summer. Every time I'd see him I'd ask how he was doing. I'd often pass on a cup of joe or a muffin. He was a nice guy who told me about the many unfortunate things that had befallen him over the years. His particular thing was collecting eclectic dumpster detritus that he resold for pocket money. He had everything sorted in his buggy. Pride of place was a stuffed toy tied to the front. So here I was heading back to my car, mocha firmly in hand when I encounter the old guy. I ask how his bad leg ws doing and we chat for a while. He heads off towards Thurlow and I go to my car. Suddenly I hear loud shouting and a young guy doing his best Screaming Lord Sutch runs across the street. You know the type - late twenties, loud and aggressive, screaming for no apparent reason and flying high on crystal or crack. More shouting erupts when he grabs the stuffed toy off old guy's buggy and tries to take it. Old guy fights back and tells him to f...off. They get into a tug-of-war. I shrugged and opened the car door to leave. Then I thought , " What kind of a person am I to let that old man be bullied over one of the few things he treasures?" I hollered at Lord Sutch to "f...off " , "leave him alone" and a few other cliches that seemed appropriate, but he ignored me. Now I had to step it up a notch, but reality started to sink in. What if he had a knife? (quite likely). If he's on meth he's fearless (unlike me), probably would feel no pain and unpredictable. What if others joined in? There were about fifteen people in the alley at that time. I put the coffee in the car ( I thought about throwing it at him, but Starbucks never makes their coffee hot enough to effectively do any damage). They have now spilled into the middle of Thurlow as I go to the trunk for reinforcements. I figure if he needs convincing a Louisville Slugger should do the trick. I start walking towards them when the old guy lands a roundhouse right that takes the steam out of screaming young dude. Old guy snatches back the toy, re-attaches it to the buggy and pushes on like nothing happened. Young dude heads towards me into the alley. I brace myself, but he walks past like I'm not there. Neither of them even noticed I was trying to intervene. (This is more like the treatment I get from women). Nobody in the alley moved a muscle and, even more disturbing, nobody on Thurlow tried to save the old guy from what I thought was going to be a beating. I guess the old guy hasn't survived this long without being tough. My adrenaline was pumping and I was shaking over the whole incident even though I didn't really even get involved. I went back to my coffee and drove home.
I didn't really accomplish anything, but I did feel a lot better that I had tried to help. Many years ago I witnessed a severe beating that was sickening in its savagery and I've always regretted that I didn't do something then. As scary as these things are I think, like Ophelia we have to get involved.
Any other stories out there in the naked City?
I didn't really accomplish anything, but I did feel a lot better that I had tried to help. Many years ago I witnessed a severe beating that was sickening in its savagery and I've always regretted that I didn't do something then. As scary as these things are I think, like Ophelia we have to get involved.
Any other stories out there in the naked City?