I really, really need to move out of this neighborhood.
You know that little voice in people's heads that tells them, "Don't get involved. Stay out of it. It's none of your business."
Yeah, I don't seem to have one. If I did, it shot itself in the head a long time ago.
Tonight's misadventure:
While waiting for the bus before 5am, I see a guy and a girl fighting. The guy keeps trying to grab the girl, she's screaming at him and swatting him away. He picks her up and takes her back to his car. She's still kicking and screaming, and when he tries to put her in the car she pushes her way out. He starts screaming, "I'm your boyfriend! You love me!" as he holds her in a bear hug.
They disappear around the corner and I walk over to look, and there are two other guys there. Who aren't doing anything useful, just kind of standing around. Sometimes they guide the girl to their car, but when the "boyfriend" grabs her they don't do anything.
So I call 911.
And uh, walk over there and yell at them. You know, "If she doesn't want to get in the car, call a cab!" One of the other guys starts with the "Oh, that's her boyfriend, it's fine. They're both drunk."
I don't care.
"Don't call the cops, it's fine."
Um, I already called the cops, they've been on the line this entire time.
The boyfriend gets in his car and zooms off. The girl appears to get in the other car with a minimum of fuss, so I pretty much leave it up to the dispatcher what to do, because I don't know anymore. She hangs up.
The other car leaves, and now I am hoping that everything turns out alright. A guy walks up and asks if I got the plates. I didn't, but apparently he did and had called 911 as well. So hopefully this won't turn into some torrid tabloid horror story tomorrow.
You know, sometimes I really miss the days when I was a wuss.
Yeah, I don't seem to have one. If I did, it shot itself in the head a long time ago.
Tonight's misadventure:
While waiting for the bus before 5am, I see a guy and a girl fighting. The guy keeps trying to grab the girl, she's screaming at him and swatting him away. He picks her up and takes her back to his car. She's still kicking and screaming, and when he tries to put her in the car she pushes her way out. He starts screaming, "I'm your boyfriend! You love me!" as he holds her in a bear hug.
They disappear around the corner and I walk over to look, and there are two other guys there. Who aren't doing anything useful, just kind of standing around. Sometimes they guide the girl to their car, but when the "boyfriend" grabs her they don't do anything.
So I call 911.
And uh, walk over there and yell at them. You know, "If she doesn't want to get in the car, call a cab!" One of the other guys starts with the "Oh, that's her boyfriend, it's fine. They're both drunk."
I don't care.
"Don't call the cops, it's fine."
Um, I already called the cops, they've been on the line this entire time.
The boyfriend gets in his car and zooms off. The girl appears to get in the other car with a minimum of fuss, so I pretty much leave it up to the dispatcher what to do, because I don't know anymore. She hangs up.
The other car leaves, and now I am hoping that everything turns out alright. A guy walks up and asks if I got the plates. I didn't, but apparently he did and had called 911 as well. So hopefully this won't turn into some torrid tabloid horror story tomorrow.
You know, sometimes I really miss the days when I was a wuss.