Walking home from dinner, Puppy and I stopped at a red light and discussed the merits of the ice cream we'd just purchased. A few twenty-somethings rode their bikes through the intersection, turning in front of us and the last member of their group - a hipster-type wearing an ironic, old-fashioned style helmet - took a digger and spilled in the crosswalk. He picked his head up, looked shocked, and started to stand up.Suddenly, a figure in a hoodie ran past us and approached the fallen bicyclist. We assumed it was a friend, arriving to help the hipster up, but instead of helping the guy, he ran up to him, slapped him in the face and started cackling!
Upon closer inspection, we saw that the slapper was a moderately homeless, pretty drunk kid and it was clear the two were not friends. Fallen bicyclist grabbed dirty slapper and started yelling, "What the fuck?! What the fuck?!"
Puppy and I just crossed the street and let our neighbors finish their business in the crosswalk.
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2 comments:
Does that qualify as an "SF" moment, cuz that seems like something that I would see outside of my window.
Yes, felt like home!
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