Well, what place this world is. As you all know, I live in Charles Village, one of the Islands of humanity in this cess city. There are places like this all over the city, tiny enclaves of white people, and upper middle class homesteaders, and businesses that don't sell cigarettes by the single, or lake trout (fried carp), and some (few) of the 70% of the population that is lucky enough to not live somewhere where shootings are just a soundtrack to the evening. Anyway.
So, I'm walking over to the coffee place after my training session at the Rocky Run (see previous posts, this place does belong in a mall, but, anyway)and I see all kinds of cop cars, and ambulances, and the ubiquitous JHU police hanging around outside of the building that the coffee place is in. I turn to go into the door and I see emt's and cops and plain clothes cops (detectives, I guess, you know like Lenny Briscoe) and a woman on a stretcher with blood all over her face and her head in a bandage.
I get inside and inquire to my regular coffee bringer what happened. Turns out, some stupidly desparate person held up the blimpie in the same building and on his way out decided to wack this woman with his gun. She was just in the hallway on the phone. Some shit. I mean, first, to go into this gigantic Hopkins-esque complex and fucking rob a blimpie (with a gun) at 7 in the evening...just not what you would expect. It's like, because this neighborhood lulls you into thinking that you're safe. That somehow those imaginary neighborhood boundries mean something to scumbags...just a wake up call. And I thought the worst part was living with the rats in the alley.
On a completely different note, I like gin. It crucified me last night, and it was good.
F. Scott Draper
Posted by thynkhard
at 7:45 PM EST
