All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing
This was an interesting experience.
So I went to Erin's bachelorette party at Bootie tonight (kicked ass) and by some machinations I ended up driving an acquaintance home to the Outer Richmond in her own car. I then drove myself home in her car. On the way to my place, around 12th and Lincoln, I passed a cab stopped in the right lane. Doors open, driver and passenger standing there looking pissed, like they're about to fight in the middle of Lincoln Avenue.
I drove by slowly thinking, "Eesh" before it occurred to me that I should do more than just hope everyone would be alright. I made 3 right turns and put my hazards on at a stop where I could see them. A pedestrian with a well-trimmed beard and a large backpack was leaning on a mailbox watching them too. They were still standing in the street arguing, but once the cab driver saw me watching, he got back into the car and, presumably, contacted the police or his cab company. My mind went through several different potential scenarios and I thought for a moment the passenger might have been crossing the street and been hit or maybe he jumped out from between parked cars and got hit on purpose or maybe...
The passenger walked over to my window and lamented, "Man, he's got my backpack and my skateboard," in a So-Cal surfer-stoner voice.
"What happened?" I asked.
"He's got my backpack and skateboard in his cab!"
"Why?"
"Well, I realized all of a sudden that I didn't have any cash or my ATM card and he stopped and hit me."
"What?"
"He hit me," and then to the guy at the mailbox, "Did you see him, Man?"
"Yeah, I've been standing here watching the whole thing. I saw him hit you," said mailbox-guy.
"Do you have your phone on you?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Get his cab number; call the cab company."
"What? No, he's got my skateboard. He hit me."
"If you have your phone on you, you should call the police."
"That's what he's doing."
This guy was clearly a turd and had no intention of paying the driver, but the driver had no right to take his stuff. I found a coffee receipt in the car and wrote down the cab number and company. The guy had moved around to the passenger door, perhaps assuming I was going to give him a ride. Wrong, Sir! I yelled at him to come over to my side several times before he did. I handed him the cab info and said, "This is the cab info. Put it in your pocket right now." He took it and then wandered back to the cab with a stumbling, cocky swagger. Then, I drove off. The cabbie probably called the police and the guy probably kept whining about his skateboard.
I realize, of course, I just assisted some stoned jackass who, in all likelihood, deserved a whack in his slack-jawed mouth, but we Americans, we's gots us some rights, right? What if the driver had just taken off and stolen all the guy's hash, Man? What if he'd beaten him even more? Who knows? I feel confident that because there were witnesses, the situation did not escalate any further. At least I've got that.
So I went to Erin's bachelorette party at Bootie tonight (kicked ass) and by some machinations I ended up driving an acquaintance home to the Outer Richmond in her own car. I then drove myself home in her car. On the way to my place, around 12th and Lincoln, I passed a cab stopped in the right lane. Doors open, driver and passenger standing there looking pissed, like they're about to fight in the middle of Lincoln Avenue.
I drove by slowly thinking, "Eesh" before it occurred to me that I should do more than just hope everyone would be alright. I made 3 right turns and put my hazards on at a stop where I could see them. A pedestrian with a well-trimmed beard and a large backpack was leaning on a mailbox watching them too. They were still standing in the street arguing, but once the cab driver saw me watching, he got back into the car and, presumably, contacted the police or his cab company. My mind went through several different potential scenarios and I thought for a moment the passenger might have been crossing the street and been hit or maybe he jumped out from between parked cars and got hit on purpose or maybe...
The passenger walked over to my window and lamented, "Man, he's got my backpack and my skateboard," in a So-Cal surfer-stoner voice.
"What happened?" I asked.
"He's got my backpack and skateboard in his cab!"
"Why?"
"Well, I realized all of a sudden that I didn't have any cash or my ATM card and he stopped and hit me."
"What?"
"He hit me," and then to the guy at the mailbox, "Did you see him, Man?"
"Yeah, I've been standing here watching the whole thing. I saw him hit you," said mailbox-guy.
"Do you have your phone on you?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Get his cab number; call the cab company."
"What? No, he's got my skateboard. He hit me."
"If you have your phone on you, you should call the police."
"That's what he's doing."
This guy was clearly a turd and had no intention of paying the driver, but the driver had no right to take his stuff. I found a coffee receipt in the car and wrote down the cab number and company. The guy had moved around to the passenger door, perhaps assuming I was going to give him a ride. Wrong, Sir! I yelled at him to come over to my side several times before he did. I handed him the cab info and said, "This is the cab info. Put it in your pocket right now." He took it and then wandered back to the cab with a stumbling, cocky swagger. Then, I drove off. The cabbie probably called the police and the guy probably kept whining about his skateboard.
I realize, of course, I just assisted some stoned jackass who, in all likelihood, deserved a whack in his slack-jawed mouth, but we Americans, we's gots us some rights, right? What if the driver had just taken off and stolen all the guy's hash, Man? What if he'd beaten him even more? Who knows? I feel confident that because there were witnesses, the situation did not escalate any further. At least I've got that.