Um, Excuse Me.
I used to repo home furnishings in the lower economic regions of Akron, OH. I used to bang on PJ doors on Saturday mornings at 7 AM and demand the return of people's washers and dryers and what not. I have removed computers and bedroom sets from homes of obvious gang activity. I did this and at no time did I ever feel scared for my life. I felt nervous and uncomfortable all the time, but that may have been because the work hurt my soul.
I say this in point of reference. I am not one to get skittish in odd and potentially dangerous situations. Until today.
I was evaluating a building on W 14th in the Tremont area. I have been to this site several times in the last few weeks and have noted the high number of homeless people wandering about. I am liberal Democrat but still don't care for beggars and the like. I make a pitied exception for the metal ill who have ended up on the streets, but in large I am not overly sympathetic to the drug addled homeless.
I had been working for about 3 hours this morning and had walked around the building a time or two. I had noted the collection of empty Wild Irish Rose bottles and the collection of cardboard and rags. I knew homeless people were about. As I turned the corner into the back lot of the building I had an awkward feeling that I was not alone. I looked around the corner of a dumpster and saw a shabby looking fellow having a poop. I don't know if he saw me and do not care. I turned on my heel and walked away, back toward the main street. I tried to compose myself and continued to work. I was focused on some damaged and displaced stone near the roofline of the building when out of nowhere another homeless man was right next to me asking how tall he was. I was undone. I was tongue tied and down right scared. I walked straight to my truck, got in, and left.
Looking back I was probably not in any danger. The sneaking guy, not the pooper, was a little old man with very rotted teeth. But who is to know what his intention was? I was oblivious to his presence before he was close enough to smell. I was freaked out. And then the idea that I could have stepped in man poop; it was just to damned much.
I say this in point of reference. I am not one to get skittish in odd and potentially dangerous situations. Until today.
I was evaluating a building on W 14th in the Tremont area. I have been to this site several times in the last few weeks and have noted the high number of homeless people wandering about. I am liberal Democrat but still don't care for beggars and the like. I make a pitied exception for the metal ill who have ended up on the streets, but in large I am not overly sympathetic to the drug addled homeless.
I had been working for about 3 hours this morning and had walked around the building a time or two. I had noted the collection of empty Wild Irish Rose bottles and the collection of cardboard and rags. I knew homeless people were about. As I turned the corner into the back lot of the building I had an awkward feeling that I was not alone. I looked around the corner of a dumpster and saw a shabby looking fellow having a poop. I don't know if he saw me and do not care. I turned on my heel and walked away, back toward the main street. I tried to compose myself and continued to work. I was focused on some damaged and displaced stone near the roofline of the building when out of nowhere another homeless man was right next to me asking how tall he was. I was undone. I was tongue tied and down right scared. I walked straight to my truck, got in, and left.
Looking back I was probably not in any danger. The sneaking guy, not the pooper, was a little old man with very rotted teeth. But who is to know what his intention was? I was oblivious to his presence before he was close enough to smell. I was freaked out. And then the idea that I could have stepped in man poop; it was just to damned much.
posted by Mr. Bebout at 4:08:00 PM
6 Comments:
I love it. The fear of fear itself. It seems so cliche and un-understandable until you Dave, paint the perfect word picture of it.
You got away just in time, no?
No. If I had not seen the guy poop, that would have been better.
Tis better to see and not smell...or step.
Ah yes, but tis a far better thaing not to know about it at all.
At first blusha boy band might sound like a good idea. However, as we all know, boy bands end up in shambles with everyone either hooked on coke, booze or same sex love.
I am not up for any of that.
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