True Grit in the ‘Loin
So last night my special friend and I went for a midnight donut run at Bob’s. As previously noted, I’ve got a thing for a warm, crisp, cake donut. And since I just don’t do 6am, that means a late night quest every now and then.
So we after we get the goods, we head back along Polk, where we notice a young thug walking backwards out of a liquor store, yelling something. He takes a couple of steps away and throws a bag of something against the outside of the store. Nothing out of the ordinary for Polk Street, right? Well then we see this little old asian fellow, presumably the owner, come out after him. He must have been pushing 70, maybe older. The owner is carrying only a feather duster, but he’s walking toward the hood with conviction. I’m mentally preparing to intervene. I’m not much for fighting, but I’m big enough to keep this kid from killing an old dude. The punk stops for a moment to yell some more, and then takes a few more steps away. The little owner keeps coming. We’re saying to ourselves Quit while you’re ahead, little man! Go back inside! Just as it appears conflict is inevitable, the thug makes one more quick display of bravado and then high tails it away. By this time, what appears to be the owners wife is now backing up her husband. A few more steps forward and the show is over.
I wish my writing skills were such that I could relay the intensity, because it really was pretty cool. We hypothesized for a while about how this elderly couple were some kind of clean-fu martial arts masters and how awesome it would have been if they had impaled the hoodlum on the feather duster.
I love the wacky characters of SF.