Life on the Streets: Day 2 – Part 3

Day: Thursday
Time: 0345
Location: Maccas on Alfred in front of Circular Quay




Walking along and came across guy I thought was talking on his mobile. As it turns out, he just had both hands up by his head and when he saw me, gave a gasp of shock, maybe fear. Can’t blame him, a 6 ft (1.89 m) Latino in black jacket and blue jeans that ninjad out of the shadow while he wasn’t looking appearing from nowhere must have been a bit of a shock. He seems mentally deficient and keeps walking into things with his hands by his head and constantly muttering some variation of “derm” and then a smaller gasp like the one he first gave. At first I consider being friendly, then I realize his state of mind and decide no contact is best I walk at nearly the same place. Maybe if I observe, I can learn something. Unfortunately, he changes course, at the current speed our courses will collide. He is not a small person. I am a black belt yes… but my joints and muscles are cold and stiff. PLUS! I just saw this guy plow straight into glass walls and doors, wood benches, metal poles, and concrete slabs. Quite unfortunately, I fear that any confrontation with him would have to lead to his death before I felt out of harm’s way.

To clarify: not that I seek that, but, where as I do not know what damage he can inflict, I have an idea of what he can take.

Taking these very tragic calculations into account, I alter my present speed but not course.

He begins to accelerate and gain.

I have to increase speed and surpass him to the point that he is out of my sight but still track him by sound and our reflections in windows.

He is directly on my 6.

Running at this point is uncalled for due to the fact that he has not shown himself violent, but I still don’t know what he is capable of. Plus, what if he is like an animal which running will only trigger an attack? Running at this point, with the amount of intel I have is definetly not the way to go.

I increase my speed so I am approaching power walk speed and I alter my course to about 10 o’ clock where as the board walk continues on to the wharfs at about 2 o’clock.

Bogie is no longer on my 6 and continues along with boardwalk.

But all is not done… My bladder hates me. I love this city to much to just pee anywhere in one of the touristy spots, at least the ones without vegetation (ie. a bush to hide behind and use as a target) so I decide to head to the Maccas that I see which seems to be open. I head over to it, and guess who also found it.

I see him through the window but he seems to take no notice of me at first. I decide to sit outside and write this while I wait for a clear opening to the toilet.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Day: Thursday
Time: 0406
Location: Maccas on Alfred in front of Circular Quay


As I write the above section on “Ear-mumbler”, three police cars worth of police show up and talk to skinny guy inside. They are pointing down the street. Soon after four drunk guys show up and walk inside. I hear skinny say, “That’s the one”. I turn around in time to see everyone assume defensive positions. The typical language you would expect in this situation is said. Soon after I hear, “oh this is bullshit!” and “go on… get”.

Three guys walk out. One is left to have as we would say in scouting a “log sit” with the police.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Day: Thursday
Time: 0444
Location: Maccas on Alfred in front of Circular Quay


The guy is arrested, his three mates swear vengeance on “Skinny”. The coast is clear for me to go in. I walk in to where the toilet is usually located, instead there is a sign that says, “There are no toilets available for public at this location…”

F M L

I sat through all that for NOTHING. The worst part is I did and said nothing to the two cops who stayed behind to warn them about what the guys said about “Skinny”.

Why?

The three guys where loitering outside waiting for the cops to leave “Skinny” behind. If I did say something to the cops, the three would have seen. So I just walked out. After all, I know I could take down one, and maybe get some good hits on the other two, but these guys have the advantage of alchol in their system.

I pray nothing bad happens to “Skinny”. Some (if not most) of you are thinking to yourself “good job Edward, you kept your mouth shut, minded your own business and went to the (surprisingly) warm subway station across the street.”

But it was wrong.

If something happens to “Skinny” because the cops left thinking it was ok to do so not knowing what that guy was planning, it is my fault. Any blood spilt will be on my hands. We are supposed to stand up for the little guy!

…at least I am…

And I didn’t…

I cowarded away, “minding my own business”. Now I’ll have the thought of “Skinny” getting his as kicked for days thinking about how I could have prevented it.

You see Wilson… THIS! to answer your question is what the F^(k I see wrong with pacifism.

Maybe you’re right… maybe I just “don’t know how to do it right” but that bullshit of me getting to walk away while some guy who (unless he is hiding some serious judo skills in that 50 kg body of his) has a FAR less chance against those guys then I do gets his assed kicked, I don’t go with that.

You all may disagree and be happy I am safely sitting on a wharf over a hundred meters away after having rode the train through town. I can’t say I’m not happy about being safe. After all, I don’t have home field advantage here.

But I still say it was wrong, and I still feel like a failure as a defender of the weak.

Worse yet… a coward of a failure.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Day: Thursday
Time: 0456
Location: Town Hall Station




I see “Ear-mumbler” again. Apparently he was on the same train ride over here that I was on.

My feelings of cowardness are now escalated. I see that this guy left to himself is most likely not violent. I pass by him on my walk to the toilet. I have a quick self debate on mind over matter and can I keep my bladder from exploding while I talk to this guy. The answer:

No

My heart wasn’t strong enough. Sad I know. I see him again on the platform next to mine. I watch him for awhile. He seems to be in pain. I can’t tell if the hands over the ears thing is physical pain or is he trying to silence the voices? Whichever it is, he seems to be in pain. I am not quite ready to say demon possession since symptoms still seem mental and I see no other signs of possession.

This fourth encounter with “Ear-mumbler” does help add to my feelings of being a failure.

Part of this experiment is to learn to see people the way God sees us. With Love.

But what did I do?

I took the safe route and ran, I avoided all together like the Pharisees and Saducees did lepers. I put my own self interest above others. And now I’m just standing here watching another human being in pain and I’m not doing anything. What if it is pain? And that was all? I’m not a doctor, but hey… I am a lifeguard, taking a look and maybe buying him some Aleve or Tylenol couldn’t hurt. If it is voices, ok, can’t do much on that one (Note to self: get that doctorate in psychology like I always tell myself I’ll get) but by the 1 in 1,345,782,917 chance that he does have a demon… what if I could get it out? Is my faith strong enough to get one out of a person? I think I got one out of a house once… how much harder is a person?

I feel like I have failed “Ear-mumbler”. I turn around, and the subway ad to the right of the one directly in front of me says this:




I realize how even more important helping the homeless is and I begin to feel overwhelmed. Maybe the cynics are right… I can’t do it all…

Maybe at my absolute BEST I will only ever be a Batman to the little guy… maybe my greatest contribution won’t actually be helping but just beating the shit out of evil. After all, like one of my favorite post 9-11 Navy slogan says, “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of all who threaten it”. Maybe I will only ever be Batman, maybe I won’t be a superman to the world.

Maybe Cuddy already knows that about me. Maybe she is more like Rachel in the current Christopher Nolan series of Batman who is afraid that all Bruce will EVER know is running around at night committing violence in the name of Justice and what she wants (and deserves mind you) is the guy who can bring evil to justice in daylight, using his own persona. She deserves a Superman who will do more than just keep arresting Lex Luthor, but will also help the world get rid of nukes and get every stupid little kitten out of a tree and all that other crap.

I may have what psychologist call a “Superman Complex” (A.K.A. “Messiah Complex”) but Batman and I see WAY more eye to eye on things.

I know, that was a bit of a long self pity rant with far too many pop culture references, but I am feeling slightly overwhelmed with the world’s problems that I feel called to deal with.

I could quite literally burst into tears right now.




Thanks “Ear-mumbler”