Last weekend, my girlfriend, her friend, and I are sitting down at the local Dunkin Donuts enjoying a nice cup of joe and a few bakery delights, when (what I assume was) a homeless man proudly enters the establishment. Announcing so all could hear, "There's a new sheriff in town! Bitches!", which, remarkably, no one paid attention to. This makes the homeless man angry. And did I mention he was 6'4", and big? Like, he could have done well at sports if he didn't get addicted to crack, kinda big.
And as it happens, my girlfriend and her friend are both young attractive females. And conveniently, right in the crack head juggernaut's line of sight. So he strolls over and addresses the friend by slamming the open chair into our table, and stating "Listen when I'm talking to you bitch". And without waiting for a response, storms into the bathroom. Weird.
At this point, the entire store is quietly aware that a giant homeless man was showering in the Dunkin Donuts men's room. And everyone at the table was rightfully shaken up over what had just occurred. But our conversation continues on. That is until the homeless man comes back out.
First, let me describe to you how the restaurant is laid out. The three of us were sitting at a round table with four chairs. Me, facing the bathroom, my girlfriend to my left, and the friend directly across from me.
The homeless man quietly exits the bathroom, and leans on the door frame. Then he proceeds to stare at me for the next minute or so. Alright, maybe he's like a wild animal. Don't make eye contact. So, I try hard to seem like I'm paying attention to the friend, and avoid the crackhead's glazed stink-eye. Bad idea.
This is where it gets weird. He then walks over to the table and grabs our dirty napkins. Yup, he grabs our trash. And says, "Pick up your ****ing trash bitch!", and proceeds to throw away our used napkins, while yelling "Buy me a ****ing doughnut!". At this point, my girlfriend (who tends to get carried away sometimes) says "Get a job, and buy your own doughnut!". My heart sinks, and I start to scan the room for weapons. Aside from an apple fritter, luke warm coffee, and a chair, I draw a blank. The gf had mace, but that was in her purse out of reach (and I didn't think of it). The bum then threatens to cut my girlfriend's throat. Insert expletive here. At which point, my 5'8" caucasian self warns, "You better back the **** off!", which garners only a snicker from the crack head behemoth. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared at this point.
Luckily, like a raccoon to aluminum foil, a shiny new quarter in the tip jar catches his eye. Did his crack-riddled brain think the employees would take payment for food out of their own tip jar? As everyone stares in terror/disbelief, my girlfriend yells at the statuesque (pussy) manager to call the cops. Which culminates in the manager asking the crack giant to leave.
The weirdest part of this entire exchange were his parting words. As he walks past our table out the door, he says to my girlfriend "Eat beef! You want beef, you got ground beef! Just wait, eat a hamburger and die!". What the hell does that mean. Is that prison slang?
Who really cares. I hope he gets hit by a car while he's rampaging around the streets in a crack fueled tirade.
So why did I bother to tell you this?
Well, what if I ran into this upstanding citizen heading to my car? Even worse, what if my girlfriend is with me? What if he breaks into my house looking for things to trade for more crack?
Needless to say, this whole ordeal got me thinking. What if I got a gun? Don't get me wrong, I don't ever, ever want to kill anyone. But if that colossal crackface came at me or anyone I love, I sure as hell would like to take him down, and make sure he stays that way. So, to satisfy my curiosity, I went to the gun range downtown with a buddy, and we shot off a few rounds.
We went to Bob's Gun Shop off Granby Ave, in downtown Norfolk. If you're a newcomer, it's $20 for a gun rental, two targets, and 50 rounds. Not a bad deal if you ask me.
And to be honest, a gun wouldn't do much good in most all the situations listed above, because it'd spend most all its time locked up at my house. But, I definitely would gain some piece of mind, which in my eyes, is hard to put a price on.
Plus, guns are fun toys!
WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT!
Bobs Gun Shop from Thomas Raines on Vimeo.
1 comments:
What a terrible and disgusting guy! As you said though, I don't think a gun would help in these situations.
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