May 8, 2008

• Wire thieves and vigilantes.

  Yesterday evening as I was leaving an apartment building I noticed a bunch of wires pulled out of an incomplete electrical box, which was a work in progress. After walking down another flight of stairs, I noticed a vagrant loitering within the ground level gated area with a bag preventing the lock from engaging. By putting one and one together you should automatically assume that he was a copper thief. He said apologized for getting in the way, while I responded with silence. Other than notifying my friend who lives in the building that there might be a thief, I did nothing. For one, I didn't know the phone number for the police, other than the emergency 911 number. Secondly, whoever was installing the EMT piping and wires would probably have to pay for the extra materials. Plus, it's their own fault for being stupid and leaving all their crap ass 4" square boxes open.

  Either way, I felt nothing towards this man. No sympathy or hate.

  If I was stressed out and pissed off to the greatest of all extremes, I don't know if I would have simply fished and attempted to aggravate him or grabbed him by the face and used it as a stress ball. A stress ball, in which his head would be the ball, and a hammer would be my hands.

  But, really. I felt nothing towards him. Nothing at all.

  I didn't care what he did, it was not my problem.

  Wire thieves and drug peddling foot soldiers are pretty much the only type of homeless people in which I despise.

  Four years ago I used to be very paranoid about my surroundings. My grandparents raised me to be extra-cautious about being around certain people. Did this help me survive? I'm not so certain about that, for I didn't value my life at all. I'm not so certain about how much I value it at the present time, either. But, anyways I used to wear steel toe boots and a leather jacket at all times, whenever I left home. I also took into great consideration about investing in kevlar armor and knife-proof gloves, but I never got around to that. I also carried a legal size blade at all times.

  I don't do those things anymore. I've grown up a lot and realized long ago that I'm not batman, I'm not a vigilante. Burying an axehead in the back of a malnourished homeless person whose hacking away at a bike lock with a pair of bolt cutters isn't going to do anything.

  Driving everywhere also eliminates a great chance of getting mugged.

  • 10:25 pm
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