A couple of weeks ago I'd stayed up late playing drums and about 5am or so my dog needed to take me for a walk. It's about 1.2 miles round-trip but we hadn't made it halfway when I saw a guy about a hundred yards away just standing there. At first I thought maybe he was walking his dog too and it was doing its business, but then I noticed there was no dog. He did have a rather large stick though. He stood still for a couple of minutes and I figured he was high on something.
Then he started flopping down on the hoods of cars and sort of rolling around on them. Then I knew he was high. He was rolling around and lying on the ground and acting like someone who was totally out of it. It was really cold that night but all he had on was a t-shirt and a thin jacket. I was guessing he was so fried he couldn't feel the cold. My dog stopped in his tracks and didn't make a sound. That's really rare for him and when he does that I know something's up. We both stood there watching this clown, and I was about to call the cops. Not only was he ill-dressed for the weather but there was no telling what he might do. I thought maybe he was going to smash a window with his stick to steal something or climb in and crash out. Finally my dog barked.
He looked up and saw us. He started muttering some shit and started slowly walking toward us. I was a bit concerned but he was moving our way so slowly that I knew I could outrun him. He was dragging one foot and walking exactly like something out of a Zombie movie. Creepy? Hell, yeah. He was still a couple of blocks away but he was totally zeroed in on us and headed our way. "Fuck it...I'm calling the cops" I decided. "911...what's your emergency?" said the voice on the phone. I told her what was going on and she said she'd send a unit right away. "Can you still see him, sir?" I said yes. "What's he doing?" she asked. I told him he was muttering and cursing and slowly walking toward me. "Don't put yourself in any danger" she said, "but if you can, keep an eye on him. An officer will be there any minute. Stay on the line if you can." "Okay, thanks" I said.
For the next few minutes I watched him slowly walking toward us as I was describing the action to the 911 operator. It was surreal and I could tell it sounded weird even to a jaded 911 operator. "Is he still coming toward you?" "Yes, ma'am." I wonder what his story is" she said. "Id like to know too" I replied. One of the neighbor kids came out to leave for work. She speaks broken English but I was able to make her understand that there was a bad man nearby, so she asked if I'd walk her to her car. I told the operator what was going on and she said "Good for you, sir." "Thanks." The girl saw him and told me that he lived here and that he "likes to scare people." "Okay, thanks. 'Bye." "Fuck that asshole" I thought. "That isn't cool. I'm glad I called 911."
He got to within maybe 50' of me and stopped; still staring me in the eye. He picked up his stick and held it over his head. I figured it'd be a good time to retreat a bit and take my dog inside. I slowly crept back out and saw him slowly walking away and muttering and cursing to himself. He went behind some bushes just as the cops arrived. I told them the story and that I'd just found out that he probably lived there. I said I didn't want to get him in any trouble but he was obviously out of it and possibly dangerous. He said he'd question him so I went in for the night. Seeing some creepy fuck walking toward you like a Zombie while talking to 911 was plenty of adventure for one early morn'.
If I hadn't been so initially weirded-out I might have connected the stick to several months earlier when I'd seen a dude practicing Aikido in the parking lot, but my brain was using most of its CPU capacity going "WTF...WTF..." I'd briefly spoken to him, and I gathered he wasn't the friendly type. Fair enough, but after the Zombie incident I figured he was half out of his tree. A week or two after I first met him I passed him again. I was at least 75' away but he said "You better keep that dog away from me." I thought he was kidding and started laughing. "I mean it!" he said. "You keep him away from me!" "You're the one with the stick" I said. I figured that besides the martial arts factor he was just a garden-variety asshole and I'd best steer clear of him. He seemed to be at least half a bubble short of level.
Last night I was walking around 11pm and he passed us on his bike. It had funky flashing lights on it and he was blasting some good ol' Classic Rock on his little radio. Sure enough he had his stick with him. Somehow he managed to balance it, which probably wasn't easy considering it was about 7' long. I said "Hey, man" as he passed by. He grunted something back and I just grinned. He stopped for several minutes to poke at half a brick lying in the road and I stopped to watch. Who the fuck pokes at half a brick for two minutes? Finally he rode on. He had a bright flashlight and he was shining it up into the trees. What he was looking for I have no idear.
A few minutes later he rode slowly past us again, only this time he was cursing me and the dog. "What's your problem?" I asked. "YOU'RE my problem" he replied, "and your little dog too." My little dog too? Something told me we weren't in Kansas any more. "HUH?" I said. "I don't even know you. And what did my dog do? He's friendly." He just kept glaring at me and cursing. I thought maybe he was mad because I'd called the cops on him but he was so seriously baked that night I doubt he knew it was me. "Have a nice evening" I said. "Fuck you" he replied. Something was amiss. About ten minutes later we were nearly back. He was sitting on his bike with his stick; almost as if he was waiting for us. He let go with another tirade of expletives, so I said "Hey, you got something to say to me, buddy?" "You put that dog up and I'll say something to you" he replied. "He'd never hurt another living soul, unless they tried something stupid" I said. I thought it best to leave well-enough alone and went on in.
It was really bugging me though, and after a minute or two I decided to go see if he was still outside and he was. I was hesitant because I knew the guy wasn't all there, not to mention the big-ass stick. I think the word "Aikido" means "big whoopass" in Japanese. But I decided that I had to at least try to figure the shit out because it could escalate and I didn't want any trouble. I was unarmed. I walked to within a few feet of him and stopped. "Okay, dog's up. You wanna talk?" At first he just started cursing but I said "Whoa, hold on, man. If you have something to say to me say it, but if you can't be civil then please shut the fuck up. I don't want any trouble and I don't have time for bullshit."
Finally he started telling me some bizarre story but he was talking so fast, plus he was a little buzzed, so I couldn't understand him. "Slow down, please. I can't understand you." He cursed me again but he told the story slowly. He said that a couple weeks earlier he'd pulled his Achilles tendon, and that I'd supposedly watched him crawl back home for 45 minutes without helping. "HUH? No no no...you've got the wrong guy." "I KNOW it was you" he replied. "Dude, I'd never do anything like that. It wasn't me." "I KNOW it was you and I KNOW it was your dog too." "Nope" I said. "It was neither of us." "Yes it was. You were in a red van, and no other dog bays like yours." "There are other Beagles here, man. I've seen them."
I went on to tell him that I didn't own a red van and that I'd never watch another man or beast suffer if I could help it, and he could believe me or not. I think it did the trick because he finally apologized. "It's all good" I said. "I'm just glad we got it straightened out." I walked over and he shook my hand. Whew. I hope that's the end of it. You never know...we might just end up being friends. It's happened before. Peace.
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