Knuckle-dragging imbeciles, each of them.
My poor roommates have to get up early every morning for work. One in particular is usually gone by the time I wake up at 6:00am. Sadly, her room faces the street.
So I'm playing Gears of War 2 on this beautiful new 42" HDTV my roommies bought and just as it gets to around 11pm I notice, hey, that goddamn car alarm and that horn blaring has been kind of going off for almost an hour now. It's coming and going in 5-10 minute intervals and I kind of lost track of time while defending the surface of my planet from the invading horde of underground humanoid soldiers...
Now, last time something like this happened, I kind of lost my cool and tried to fight three guys at once. Not smart and not safe. With that lesson in mind, I put on some boots and went outside.
I found a tow truck blocking the narrow street (actual street in pic above), trying to jump a car and setting off the alarm over and over.
"Hey, can you move this somewhere else?" I asked.
"Move what?" the tow truck driver asked. I seriously almost lost my fucking mind.
"Move what?? Move this NOISE! Look around you!" This neighborhood is nothing but apartment buildings squished together. There were literally dozens of people staring out of windows to see what the hell was going on.
The car seemed to belong to this lady standing around. "Just let him work, it'll get done faster," she told me, with just a little too much sarcasm and without any apologetic tone. It was as if SHE was ANNOYED that I'D interrupt what THEY were doing. I kind of regret not reaching out and grabbing her by the throat, but that's probably just the Internet Tough Guy in me saying that.
"Listen," I said, "I see what you're trying to do here, but why do you have to do it HERE? You have a tow truck - move it down the street!" And I gestured towards the neighborhood not two blocks away where it's not residential.
"I can't move it," he said. "This other car is in the way."
If, in fact, one of us actually did believe that, then one of us is a goddamned idiot who has no business driving a wrecker.
So, "Plan A: Reasoning with a Bostonian" failed. As far as a first line of attack is concerned, it doesn't have a great record of success. I was wearing my Detroit hoodie, but rather than draw inspiration from the Red Wings, I decided to go with the Lions' gameplan, so I hesitated and did not hit anyone (zing!).
If this car was ticketed and needed to be towed, it could be done. What this guy needed, thought I, was for a police officer to tell him to move it.
I won't get into all the reasons why I'd rather get mugged than call the police, but let's just say that if it were ME that needed the sleep, things would have gone differently. But this is my poor roommie, who is so good to other people and whose week was already not working out. So I took the risk and called the Boston Police.
Dear Reader, you would not believe this, but "Plan C: Reach Barehanded Into a Bucket of Shit" actually worked! They saw that I got out a bucket of shit, but before I could really reach in, grab a handful, and take aim, they split! (Meaning I placed The Call, but didn't actually have to deal with any police!)
Now, I hope you can read how bitter I am about this whole situation. It doesn't fade. With each day I spend out here in Boston, I grow to resent others around me more and more. It's an extremely ugly hatred that has made me, at my worst, question my lifelong values of compassion and understanding that I learned from growing up in the Midwest. It makes me idealize Michigan as this land of happiness and community, where human beings recognize others as creatures capable of feeling both joy and sorrow. Where people have empathy for the suffering of others, and the self-respect to desire to do right by their neighbors when they can. These concepts are so foriegn, so absent from the people out here, that I almost think that maybe I dreamt of place where strangers weren't openly hostile to each other, but... even friendly? And not just occasionally, but frequently? Does that land really exist somewhere in America, or am I being too generous with the way I'm describing the way normal human beings behave in the rest of the country?
I hate the people out here. I get sick just looking at them. I get angry when I have to deal with them. I am miserable that I need to live amongst them.
I can hardly wait for the moment when I can leave knowing that I never, ever again have to step foot in this tarpit of despair for the rest of my days on Earth.