gather round, boys and girls, for a troika of stories 'bout the holidays in the hood.walking from the "t" last night, i heard them long before i could see them. f-bombs and the c-word ringing in the cold air. approaching the now-notorious bar where a girl-fight resulted in some cheek being bitten and spat to the ground, the guy was kicking the driver's side door. she was screaming. people were looking. bar patrons standing in the open door, watching. a friend came over, but quickly dodged away. don't know what the chick behind the wheel said, but her "boyfriend" then threatened to "punch her in the neck". new one, to me anyway. unless she had just had a tracheotomy or recent stitches to a knife wound, then i could see the threat.
kept walking and two short blocks away the street was jam-packed, cordoned off and lit up like a july noon. a movie crew at the police station. fake news vans all over, real and costumed cops drinking coffee. never mind the white trash domestic violence banging around the corner and still within earshot, k?
then around in the square. n-star or some such with a ladder in a hole in the pavement. hard-hats keeping warm with coffee too. detail officer in the street. also in the street, a barefoot woman slurring at the cop. she was laughing too, but he kept having to grab her so she wouldn't just collapse. legs of rubber and arms grabbing at the air, i have no idea what she was on about, but she thought it was hilarious. n-star guys just kept staring. this was about 2 blocks from the police station, and you know the cop had a radio and all those over-timers had cell phones. somebody, anybody, get that zima-crazed broad out of the street? it was below freezing -- where the hell were her shoes? "do you want me to call somebody?" i asked. nope. duty cop said he was all set. somehow, i got the feeling he didn't feel like doing drunk tank paperwork or interrupting the movie shoot. (those union guys really hate to be interrupted.)
was santa watching? cripes.
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