Life on 18th and Columbia
30 May, 2006
I often call it the Intersection of Drunk and Crazy, and the last 24 hours have been a good demonstration.
DRUNK: This morning my looks were praised by a malt liquor-holding guy. (This is not unusual in general, but for it to happen during a morning commute may be a first.)
CRAZY: Last night I met a friend at Tryst for a catchup dinner. We walked home up 18th to the intersection, and at the Chinese place adjacent to the McD's we pass a neighborhood denizen, who is usually playing his guitar but now is just morosely staring at it.
As we go by he looks us dead in the eye and says, "I'm gonna kill you."
Er. We avoid his and each other's eyes and continue on.
The guitarist isn't done with us. He asks, "You know why?"
We do not. We think it best not to ask.
We find out anyway; he shouts after us "'Cause you're PRETTY PEOPLE!"
Now, I couldn't begin to count the number of times I've been complimented, harassed, or otherwise propositioned (for sex, but also for marriage) on that particular stretch of 18th. Would I put this under that category, do you think, or under "death threats"?