My grandma's in the hospital and they figure it'll be any day now. She's 96 and has had a pretty amazing life. Just last month she was out to conferences and out doing social things. Still, am afraid to open my email every day expecting the news. So it was an extra shot in the junk today when I checked my mail to find out our beagle, Molly, had to be put down. She was a great little dog, happy, curious, playful and loving. She was 16, which is about 96 in dog years. Go figure.
Anyway I'm a little broken hearted to say the least.
The other day I was sitting at sidewalk cafe table drinking a cappuccino and working on a short student film I'm editing. This drunk homeless looking aboriginal man had been stalking the sidewalk for a while, slugging a brown paper wrapped bottle of something and randomly asking for change. God knows we owe it to him. I don't know how good you are at your job, but this guy is an absolute prodigy at being a drunk homeless guy. If anyone deserves additional remuneration for their efforts and expertise at their chosen vocation, it was this guy.
On his third fly by of this particular row of cafes he stops at my table, looks at me and says, "that's dirty!" pointing at my Mac. I look up at him, his lips flakey and dry, teeth rotting and yellow from what I would assume is the result of years of crack or meth abuse. Noting how much he spit when he spoke, I covered my coffee with my hand.
"That's fucking dirty!" he reiterated, pointing again. "You should get a fucking life, your pathetic!" he slurred, struggling to to maintain his questionable balance.
"I've got a life pal, why don't you walk on now" I muttered, looking around the sidewalk for help from the other caffeine junkies on my block, most of whom are now engrossed in their newspapers, or some insignificant irregularity in their table cloth that has become monumentally important for the time being. Thanks
My domestically challenged friend launched into another tirade about how disgusting and pathetic I am when I finally looked at him and said "Im just trying to do some work here pal, go away please"
Now here's something interesting about people of an ethnic descent with a history of being displaced by invaders resulting in cycles of poverty lasting decades if not centuries. They don't like being told to go away. It's like the statement some how justifies or encourages the attempted genocide, or extermination of their culture. Now I've pissed him off
"oh, you'd fucking like that wouldn't you?" he spat with venom.
"yes, I would I replied, that's why I said it" a replied. Well, that confused him. It's like I used Eddie Murphy's Jedi mind trick on a dried out old crack head Mr. T. With that, he wandered away cursing the white man.
By this point I'm flying. Adrenalin had me all pumped up and spoiling for a fight. I'm in no mood to edit the kids movie I've been trying to cut. So I just sat there, drinking coffee. After a few minutes it dawned on me. The guy, the homeless guy that called me a pathetic loser, he wasn't relly being a dick. I thought he was paying me out for working on my computer at a coffee shop like some prissy wanna be script writer dying to be seen (guilty). But, now that I think about it, I think he was making a joke, like I was looking at porn on my computer and was trying to embarrass me, the way I would do to a buddy. Like that email that went around a few years ago that when you opened, it showed porn and a siren went off drawing the attention of all your coworkers, who would then bray like jackasses at your stupidity.
So, assuming I'm right, all that adrenaline and anger was over a joke that I misunderstood. Well, jokes on me then. Sorry homeless guy.
Homeless craziness -1
Wannabe script writer -0
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