my afternoon with berzerker-girl.
We leave work and are walking to the car. I look over to her and say:
Yeah. Nothing more fun than knowing you're forever connected to a person that
turns into a half-starved rabid badger once a month.
"You know, I wonder--""
"I DO NOT FEEL LIKE TALKING RIGHT NOW."
I maintain my silence on the way to the car, and proceed to drive. She starts
talking to me. I know better.
Keep the mouth shut. There is safety in silence.
(She later admitted she was "testing me". oh, the love I have for
I drive home and to get there I need to drive through these housing developments
that we commonly refer to as "the ghetto". Not because we look down
on the folk that live there, thats what they refer to it as.
San Francisco proper is mostly ghetto interspersed with little pockets of
gentrification to break up the diversity. Most people from other cities
would mock San Francisco ghettos as weak anyway.
Picking your way through this area is always a challenge not because of any
danger factor, but because the streets are not a place for travelling, but just
a flatter place to hang out. Having people in front of you come to a full stop
so they can talk to their buddy in the middle of the road without even thinking
about leaving you room to get around them is not only commonplace, but expected
and considered part of the charm. Pedestrian traffic simply looks at these
streets as if they were big asphalt sidewalks.
So I'm driving along and about halfway down the block I see this teenager walk
out into the crosswalk against the light. No big surprise. Shes just ambling
along, looks directly at me, but doesn't try to get across or stop.
No. Shes going to get in my way if it results even in her death.
I'm not prepared to kill her so I start slowing down and then I hear next to me,
in a voice that can only be described as exorcistesque...
...run the bitch over...
...and I hear hands groping at the passenger side door and I can't tell if
they're going for the door handle or the window crank.
I'm just thinking "must get insane PMS woman home...light is yellow...i can go
"I said run over THE FAT BITCH WALKIN HER SLOW FAT ASS THROUGH THE
CROSSWALK AGAINST THE FUCKING LIGHT!!!"
gun it - get home - must escape...
By the last half of that explosion shes got her head half out the window...
The funny part is, all you need to do is stick them in a hot tub full of "bath
product" and they calm right down.