"I'm Going to Beat Your Fuckin' Ass!"--- a True Story

Last night, like every night, I walked the dogs at around 10pm. Sometimes my wife and I do this together. Sometimes alone. But she was down in the lounge, entertaining. (that's a long, strange and different story!). So, I walked 'em.

I walked Camilla. All good, quick and easy.. Then,I walked Chuy up and down and he crapped right in front of our kitchen door. So, i bundled him inside. Bagged the crap. and set off for the corner garbage area a half block down. A drunk was stumbling towards me. This is not unusual. You give them their space. They stagger past. Suddenly this guy screamed "Hey Motha Fucka" and then coming towards me, "I'm Going to Beat Your Fuckin' Ass!"

He was right in my face. We were alone. The street half-lit. The cobblestone wet from drizzle. I was anxious, but calm. The way you are in dreams. A strange and easy sort of anxiety. Like you're floating in it. And into it. Maybe he's got a knife, I thought. Or a gun. But I was calm. It was all happening slowly. I muttered something like "what?" He demanded "Is that your truck?" I told him I didn't have a truck. (I've never wanted a truck. But maybe I should. Something too big for our narrow street. And with blue neon lights around the back license-plate. ??) And then he started on about some gringo opening a door on him. Some altercation. The gringo called the police. "No, that's not me," I said.

Then suddenly we were best friends. He gave him a knuckle-bump. I think he was missing some fingers. He told me where he worked and that he lived just around the corner. He told me he loved me and that he loved my family. He looked like someone on Lockup from MSNBC. But now he was my best friend.

"And I looked like this guy?" I asked.

"You looked EXACTLY like him," he said. "That fucking faggot."

"He's gay?" I asked.

"I don't fucking know," he said. "But I'm going to beat his fuckin' ass!"

After exchanging a few more pleasantries (and declarations of love) I walked on with the bag of shit.