My advice would be to do what that guy did, no one wants to get in a scrape with a gang banger on a Friday afternoon coming home from work. Going home dead is not a good idea. He'd stick you in a heartbeat.
@Maguro
Maybe not but he did the right thing by trying to defuse a situation early on. Kudos for thinking fast on his feet.
Well I once brushed against Joey Heathetons leg and tried to talk to her about her pussy.
She called the cops.
This would probably be the worst possible time to tell you about how I worked my way through grad school in the 80s as a professional Joey Heatherton impersonator, right...?
"My advice would be to do what that guy did, no one wants to get in a scrape with a gang banger on a Friday afternoon coming home from work. Going home dead is not a good idea. He'd stick you in a heartbeat."
OTOH, would Bloody Loco have understood and realized the potential danger he was in had sweater guy replied with "My name is Bernhard Goetz. You'd better write that shit down ASAP!" Probably too dumb to know who Goetz is, and so Bloody Loco fucks with a mild-mannered guy that looks like an easy pushover but who instead shoots him. Sweater guy knew the type of person he was fucking with, but poor Bloody Loco (who has no reluctance to advertise the type of person he is) will one day try this stunt with someone who isn't who they appear to be (like a retired Gurkha). Then badass Bloody Loco will be nothing but a statistic.
Well I once brushed against Joey Heathetons leg and tried to talk to her about her pussy.
She called the cops.
OK, here's the Mrs Slocombe bit I tried to run past vb.
Mrs Slocombe takes her next door neigbour down to the Constabulary to get some assistance in finding her friend's cat and asks the desk sergeant, "Have you seen this woman's pussy?".
Given my smartass ways, it's fairly certain that things would have deteriorated very soon after asking Mr. Loco if he knew what ASAP actually meant.
My guess is that something about the racial similarity of Sweater Guy and he, set Bloody Loco off. Some unspoken challenge represented by the natty sweater, as if Sweater Guy were saying, I'm more respectable than you.
It's like when a black cop harasses a black driver, for no other reason than the black guy is driving a broke down rustbucket.
Some unspoken challenge represented by the natty sweater, as if Sweater Guy were saying, I'm more respectable than you.
I thought it was interesting that the guy mentioned it was after the girl laughed that the guy came unglued. That might be the challenge. He, natty sweater and all, caught the girl's attention and connected with her. Mr. Loco was apparently helpless to compete on a witty level, so he took the caveman route and revved the testosterone engine. In a sense he hated the guy because he represented something that Mr. Loco can't be.
I learn a lot reading the comments on this blog (and the articles, too). The 20 regular followers are entertaining. I find myself here when I'm done scanning instapundit's list, and finish my shopping on Amazon. ;)
Crimso said: "Sweater guy knew the type of person he was fucking with, but poor Bloody Loco (who has no reluctance to advertise the type of person he is) will one day try this stunt with someone who isn't who they appear to be (like a retired Gurkha)."
If NY had a concealed carry program, Mr. ASAP's position would have been more clearly defined. As it was, his intentions were fairly clear, his means not so much.
My guess is Mr. Sweater didn't have a wingman either (retired Gurkha or Marine).
My guess is that something about the racial similarity of Sweater Guy and he, set Bloody Loco off. Some unspoken challenge represented by the natty sweater, as if Sweater Guy were saying, I'm more respectable than you.
As long as we're on the topic of race, it must be said that if Sweater Guy were white, he wouldn't have reacted the way he did - more likely, he would have been piddling his pants in fear. It is a fact of modern American life that whites are afraid of minorities. Consider the way people literally bankrupt themselves buying houses they can't afford because those houses are in "good" neighborhoods. It's not hard to figure out what "good" means in this particular context.
And regarding Joey Heatherton: Wow. seldom in history has one so hot fallen so far. I'm not sure how to post a jpg in this forum, but if I knew, I wouldn't post a recent photo of Ms. Heatherton. Like the aftermath of the tsunami, she is. Trashed.
And speaking of that and ol' Liz Taylor, one has to hand it to her, she held together as an attractive woman into her late 60's/early 70's.
I had an encounter very similar to this one last summer. I tried to help a homeless guy stow his backpack into a vehicle, and he went off on me for touching his backpack. As I drove him over to a nearby church, he continued to scream at me over and over that I was jealous of his backpack.
He was about twice my size, so I probably should have been a bit frightened. I was actually too pissed off by his behavior to be frightened.
And regarding Joey Heatherton: Wow. seldom in history has one so hot fallen so far. I'm not sure how to post a jpg in this forum, but if I knew, I wouldn't post a recent photo of Ms. Heatherton. Like the aftermath of the tsunami, she is. Trashed.
As I of course have no such reluctance, here is a picture of her ... from 2003. It is a reasonable guess that her appearance has not improved in the intervening 7+ years.
Ah, crazy loser on the subway. Brings back a memory or two. I remember one night in Boston when I was out drinking with a law school friend and some big drunk homeless guy was hassling people on the subway. We got off at Harvard Square station and so did he. The guy looks at us and says, "oh, you're getting off at Harvard Square, you must be with the Kennedys or something". This didn't sit well with my friend, who was a staunch Republican from Nebraska. Without skipping a beat, he turned to the bum and said, "well, you look and smell like a fucking Kennedy!". The guy just started to stammer and then he shuffled off. We all laughed and went to another bar. Good times.
"Seriously, nerve and training is what determines one's ability to defend one's self. Or being a bit crazy."
I think in a different setting Bloody Loco wouldn't have gotten all of ASAP out of his mouth before having it shut for him first.
I base this on the corollary, 'He who talks last, loses'.
You can't fight if your talking shit, I always loved the talkers, it allowed me the extra time to decide how I was going to strike. Usually the nose works great for the first punch. Not a roundhouse, but a quick jab. That usually shuts 'em up.
Getting in the first shot always worked well for me.
"I would have made him earn his name Bloody Loco."
I wouldn't have, though. I think I'd have done about what Sweater guy did. Not much of a fighter. If I want to physically damage someone, it's either 12 ga. or chemical exposure. The former is much more immediate and needs to have clear justification in order to get away with it. The latter could be immediate (and fairly easy for a ME to detect), or greatly delayed. The ME (if one is involved) would have no reason to suspect that the leukemia that killed the person was "administered." Yeah, I know I sound like a dangerous lunatic. But I really would have to be pushed extremely far to ever consider implementing any of my contingency plans.
"Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
Hell, yeah. While you're leaning back to avoid punches, take your first shot stomping on an arch, second reload and try to kick a knee up towards their asshole. If this is working they should be stepping back and you stop in doing a big roundhouse on the jewels. If this is working, begin tiger punching the face, repeated blows one after another. Don't be hitting on their chest or belly.
If this doesn't work, I got nothin'. If it does, step three is whipping it out and pissing on their face.
Ya that's why I hate the Bluetooth because now you can't spot da crazy.
LOL.
I love reading the anecdotes; they make people here come alive in flesh and blood.
Mine:
Today, I was parked inside my car when I turn around after hearing the most sickening thud against the door of my (new) car. An elderly couple inside a huge Dodge Ram had parked alongside me. The lady had misjudged the distance, so I roll down my window, and proceed to say sternly, "don't you see...?!". On saying that, flashback to having been present in a supermarket parking lot, when a young guy having an argument with a senior citizen, knocked off with glee, the man's fishing cap. As long as I live, I'll never forget the fright and humiliation of the trembling geezer's lips. He was a sitting duck, if the young guy wanted to continue his bullying. So, I bolt across the carpark, and let the guy have it with both barrels. He fled inside the supermarket.
Anyway, it's just a scratch. I'll have it compounded, and spare myself the memory of having turned into a Bloody Loco.
Question: Is there something about being around transportation, whether on trains, or in parking lots, that unnerves people? What's up with that?
Bloody Loco said, "I'm ready to fuck your ass up right now."
I'm not a lawyer, but when someone spits those words at me I feel directly threatened and I stop the threat. Bloody Loco presses charges, but I get off.
At the point that this begins, the guy handles it well.
Even better is to decline response to people who are belligerent enough to call a total stranger a "pussy." People carrying that kind of chip are just looking for an opportunity to explode into rage.
If he's a bully, he won't understand anything but a smackdown. If he's truly crazy, no telling what might set him off or what he might do, once he's set off. Our little town has more than its share of crazies. As amusing as they are, caution is advised. (One of) the problem(s) of big city life is not knowing who the crazies are.
The trick everyone learns living in a big city like New York, London, Paris or Rio is...don't look people in the eyes.
If Sweater Guy had not kept his eyesight firmly on that book (who reads a book and wears a Brooks Bros sweater on public transport, seriously), I think we all suspect Bloody Loco WOULD have earned his soubriquet.
A few years ago I was standing outside the north gate of Silver Spring, MD metro station waiting for a deluge of a summer storm to pass. There was a homeless guy sitting on the sidewalk about 12 ft away, raving and ranting.
Little did I know, he was ranting at me because I was inside his imaginary "space".
I'm watching the rain come down and right in front of my nose appears a fist flying by. He deliberately missed me. If he had wanted to, he could have coldcocked me. I jumped back, and yelled "hey buddy, what's the problem here", and he told me to get out of his space, which I did.
It was still pouring rain, and as I stood there a very matronly black lady came up to me and said "You handled that so well." I said "Ma'am, he's a nut job, and doesn't need any more misery in his life".
My words were prophetic. The guy a few months later moved his abode into the middle of two concrete pillars holding up the metro tracks in the middle of a six lane street. He jumped out of his space in the path of an oncoming car, and did not survive.
I've seen public transportation's bulging eyed crazy guy too many times before.
I ride BART and there is a fair share of 'Bloody Loco's' on it. I know in NYC they are a special breed of sub-human filth, but Bay Area BART dwellers have their own special vibe. Most of the bay area leftard pacifist pussies let these sub-humans do as they nearly please. I don't. They just pass me by because they instinctively know that I will retaliate if they try to pull their shit on me.
It was still pouring rain, and as I stood there a very matronly black lady came up to me and said "You handled that so well." I said "Ma'am, he's a nut job, and doesn't need any more misery in his life".
Nicely done, YH.
Notice how most of our anecdotes deal with the people who are like Bloody Loco or Drew's backpack guy, or your psychotic squatter. Meanwhile, Sweater Guy stands for the rest of us, who have creature comforts waiting for us at home, with the attendant smugness that suggests to those who have less.
Bloody Loco was set off by a woman laughing at him? That was as good as calling him a loser. The woman should've been more alive to the consequences of her mocking of a guy who doesn't look like he has much to lose in life.
What kind of existence is it to avoid eye contact with people in public; to submit to threats of violence and intimidation?
I don't walk around staring people down; I smile and greet them. Maybe have a polite conversation. It's a great way to walk through life. I've lived in some of the largest cities in the U.S. and been to some of the most dangerous places on this planet. I've met the craziest of the crazy. They feed off fear. Confidence is their kryptonite. Predators prey on the weak (or those who appear weak).
I can't imagine living a life of fear and submission. I would rather die with my head up than live hiding from the world. There's just too much to be missed.
But, that's how I see it. Others see the world through a different lens.
No, no. Not all people, NJ, and not everywhere. Not at the opera or ballpark. But in crowded, tense, anonymous public places, yes.
It's funny, but men will whizz against a wall all in a row outside a bar or a stadium, in very tight formations, but there's more tension in doing so in a public toilet.
That was over a decade ago, so I can't remember all the details perfectly, but I'll give you the gists of the ones I remember.
There was the bum (young, muscular man with nice clothes) I passed who chased me to ask for money, and then, when I ignored him, grabbed me and demanded money. (I didn't give it to him. Just wrenched away and ran across the street.)
There was the nice looking, middle-aged man in business attire standing by a pay phone on Father's Day asking if anyone had some quarters so that he could call his Dad. When I stopped to look in my purse for change but found only pennies and told him so, he got in my face and screamed, "Bitch! Don't you lie to me! Give me a fuckin' quarter!"
There was the man who asked me to dance at a club, and when I said no, that I was there with my friends and needed to stay with them, dragged me into a thick crowd by the wrist and tried to force me to dance with him. (Got free and shoved him as hard as I could. He tripped on the people behind him, and I ran away.)
There was the construction worker repairing the sidewalk who hissed, "Girl, I'd like to fuck you," just inches from me, actually spitting the word "fuck" into my face, as I passed.
There was the woman with a posterboard that said something like "Half Hungarian and Polish Jews Rape Women and Kill Children." When I made a mild wisecrack to a friend about it after we passed, the woman went ballistic and screamed that I would change my mind when one of them caught me and raped me. (That's when I learned not to make wisecracks around crazy or aggressive strangers.)
And finally, there was the huge Russian guy with bulging eyes who sat down next to me at an ice cream shop where we had this conversation: Man: "Do you like snakes?" Me: "Uh, the animal?" Man: "Yes, do you like them?" Me: "I guess they're fine." Man: "Want to come and see my snake?" Me: "What?" Man: "You come to my apartment, and I show you my snake." Me: "Nah, that's okay. Thanks for the offer though." Man: "NO! YOU COME TO MY APARTMENT TO SEE MY SNAKE!" Me: "Oh, look it's my friend outside. Hang on, I'll get her." Bolt outside and run away.
Most of those incidents, except for the quarters and the dance club, took place in Georgetown on M Street, supposedly a better part of the city.
I'll always think of you now getting ready to bolt!
There was the woman with a posterboard that said something like "Half Hungarian and Polish Jews Rape Women and Kill Children." When I made a mild wisecrack to a friend about it after we passed, the woman went ballistic and screamed that I would change my mind when one of them caught me and raped me. (That's when I learned not to make wisecracks around crazy or aggressive strangers.)
Let me guess.
Freeman Hunt, sotto voce to friend: "I wonder what full Hungarian or Polish Jews do?".
Everyone can bring the crazy, but I have found that anti-semites have a hamster-wheel of crazy going on up there.
That's when I learned not to make wisecracks around crazy or aggressive strangers
You've got to admit that's an important lesson to learn.
I never had any major metro issues in DC (except for the damnable tourists who could never seem to figure out the system on the escalator. Hint, move right if you aren't moving!). I did have a creepy van follow me around one time when I (foolishly) decided to walk home from the metro near Tysons one night around 1am.
I had many favorite homeless guy moments, though! There was the jerky guy who tried to get me to give him my sandwich and griped at me when I only gave him chips. I almost called the cops on him because I don't like people hanging out on my building steps around midnight harassing tenants.
My favorite was the guy who had a fishing pole on M street on the way into Gtown wish a big arrow pointing to a bowl for money. My friends favorite was the beggar guy who told us he took credit cards.
There was the construction worker repairing the sidewalk who hissed, "Girl, I'd like to fuck you," just inches from me, actually spitting the word "fuck" into my face, as I passed.
Well, we're curious, you didn't say whether that line worked.
When I lived near Harvard Square in the late '80s there was a homeless guy that hung out near the stairs to the subway. He didn't say much except to bellow "Change!" every few seconds. As a subway commuter I heard that guy every morning and afternoon for months. It got to be a challenge: "Change!" ... your socks? "Change!"... your hairstyle, those bangs are so out. "Change!" ... ch-ch-chain(ge) of fools... "Change!" ... no, thanks, I like things the way they are...
Live entertainment, we used to call it.
I went through some crap akin to what Fremen describes but I've repressed the details. The one subway encounter I remember was coming home from a BSO concert and seeing some punk-ass rich boy high school kid marking up the train with a sharpie. I told him to knock it off, and reminded him that his parents' taxes had bought that train and would have to pay to have it cleaned. The kid tried to sneer at me but ended up looking sheepish.
Manhattan-bound No. 7 train at night, passing through Jackson Heights in Queens. Too early in the year to be some crazy/angry/drunk Mets fan coming home from CitiField, and no express service at this time of day.
"...actually spitting the word "fuck" into my face, as I passed."
The rude ones don't even wanna swap spit first, so this guy's a keeper.
Bloody Loco is bloody commonplace. If you ride public transit in a major city, you meet him regularly. Sometimes he hurts someone, but that's rare. More often he gets a beat down, but in the overwhelming majority of cases most people do just what sweater guy did, which is why the Bloody Locos are as common as cockroaches.
Sweater guy is being praised, and maybe he did the smart thing for himself, but the sad truth is that Loco will do this over and over until he gets a different reaction, which will then actually end it for everyone from this guy.
Bring on that public transit. Then we can exchange carbon footprints for bloody ones on our backs.
A 14-year-old girl and her mother are at the doctor's, when the doctor says that the girl has gonorrhea. "That's absolutely impossible!" the girl's mother angrily says. "My daughter is a virgin. She must have gotten it from a toilet seat!"
"Perhaps so, Ma'am," the doctor replies. "Given the location of the infection, your daughter apparently was licking the seat."
As NYC subway jerks go, he doesn't even make the top 10%. He can pull this line a finite number of times before something very bad happens to him. He's probably been beaten down a few times already. That's what makes him such an asshole....There's no way a sane person can win a confrontation with such a person, but lots of crazy people wear sweaters, read books, and were on the wrestling team in college. Loco's number will come up....At any rate, from here in NYC, that's why Madison looks so Utopian. All those demonstrators and none of them look rabid or physically threatening.
And finally, there was the huge Russian guy with bulging eyes who sat down next to me at an ice cream shop where we had this conversation: Man: "Do you like snakes?" Me: "Uh, the animal?" Man: "Yes, do you like them?" Me: "I guess they're fine." Man: "Want to come and see my snake?" Me: "What?" Man: "You come to my apartment, and I show you my snake." Me: "Nah, that's okay. Thanks for the offer though." Man: "NO! YOU COME TO MY APARTMENT TO SEE MY SNAKE!" Me: "Oh, look it's my friend outside. Hang on, I'll get her." Bolt outside and run away.
Jal, Yes, I am now. I had a Nissan Titan for 6 years, and I would have bought another one, but they haven't upgraded it in all that time. The newer technology Dodge is wonderful. I hope it's as reliable as my big Nissan was.
I've lived in New York City for a long time, and I'm almost never bothered by people. This could have something to do with the fact that I'm 6 feet tall, north of 300 pounds with a beard and a shaved head and I almost always wear my vintage Ray-Ban Balorama sunglasses when I'm out.
Another key element, as mentioned by other commenters, is to never be afraid.
Army kid got himself a Dodge PowerWagon he had been dreaming an plotting for back in 2005. (He was home on leave from Iraq and there it was, right down the street from him!)
Very cool truck but a total pain -in - the butt maintenance wise. Too many proprietary things because it was special line.
So he went with something he could work on himself. All the time. And now he drives an old reworked International Scout he put a 7.3 liter Powerstroke diesel in.
I think he would have kept reading his book on the subway as long as the guy was just acting out at him.
In the catgory of amusing encounters with crazy street people goes this. In late 1987- early 1988 there was a crazy woman on State Street that I noticed several times, making the mental note as I passed her "Geez, evidently she's crazier than a shithouse rat!"
As it turns out this was Laurie Dann (as in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laurie_Dann), and she had a thing for riding elevators in the Towers apartments much of the day.
So, the basic problem with these crazy street people is - are they harmless?
vbspurs may be on to something as those two look alike. It may be some type of mirror effect that that he unable to handle psychologically as odds are good the kid had drugged out abusive parents. "I aint scared."
<interracial anecdote> I was out club hopping with friends whereupon we encountered an acquaintance of one of the friends who attached himself to our party. We were walking down the sidewalk to another nearby club when a van turned left immediately in front of us into an alley. Had the van been any closer it would have run over our toes. A matter of simple misjudgment by the driver.The new guy in our group pounded on the side of the van as it passed in front of us to express his displeasure. The van driver slammed on the brakes and a guy got out to investigate if he had hit somebody. A responsible thing to do. Seeing that nobody was hurt and that his van was simply pounded angered him and the two exchanged angry words. The van driver goes,
"I got sumthin for your ass. Yeah, I got sumthin for your ass in my van."
He quickly turned back to his van.
I'm thinking, "Oh, shit. He going to get a gun." So I yell,
"RUN !"
To my distress the new guy to our group idiotically stands there to face off. The van driver comes back with a fire extinguisher, aims it at us, and fogs up the whole night-time street. We all cracked up laughing so hard we were falling about the place in stitches and couldn't hasten away. But this etched a lasting impression upon my youthful mind and I knew right away this acquaintance would be trouble, a conclusion that would born out repeatedly. </interracial anecdote>
It will go like this..Loco will one day have the good fortune to pick on a 5'7" 175lb cinder-block of an ex- college football player cum ex-fighter-pilot cum current contract hit-man for the CIA who runs guns to motor-cycle gangs on the side and always carries concealed no matter which jurisdiction he's in.....Loco(motive) Choo Choo time for Loco..
(Such people exist--one is one of my best friends)
In a "what goes around" world I predict "Bloody Loco" will be bloody dead within the year. No matter how crazy tough you think you are there's always someone crazier and tougher who will get off the train with you and make you regret it.
Sweater guy shouldn't have had his face in the book-- predators attack when one's attention is diverted.
With NYC's -- indeed the entire state of NY-- oppressive and unconstitutional gun laws I called NYPD and asked how large of a knife I would be able to carry there. Sorry Crocodile Dundee, but they said a blade no longer than the width of one's palm is okay. I guess it doesn't matter to them that hands come in many sizes. At my age a nice walking stick or cane doesn't seem out of place either, they'll even let you take it on the plane.
"So, I bolt across the carpark, and let the guy have it with both barrels."
I can't use that phrase because it would mean something entirely different coming from me. And it would be somewhat unlikely to require the use of both.
This is why I don't carry (and besides it's hard to conceal a Model 1911). I am afraid if I was confronted by some goon on a bad day I would empty the magazine into him.
Funniest subway lunatic I encountered was in 1967 at the Jackson and State subway station in Chicago. There was a guy in loin cloth with a Bowie knife on his hip and nothing else. It was January and the temperature was -10
He was a Neanderthal boy looking for his Neanderthal girl
I travel all over the country for my job and, many times, make use of public transportation. I see way more of this kind of behavior in areas that prohibit law abiding citizens from carrying weapons to protect themselves from the Bloody Loco types. An armed society is a polite society.
I've been to just about every major city in the United States and utilized many many sidewalks and various forms of public transit, but I don't have such stories for any other city except Little Rock, and even from there I have only one.
The snake guy thing was the last one to happen while I lived there, and I distinctly remember thinking, "Man, I hate this town!" as I ran out the door.
The DC tourist stuff is nice, but the living there stuff is wretched.
I ride the MTA Subway and the PATH all the time. I've seen a little horsing around by kids, but never anyone losing it. New Yorkers generally have long fuses.
But I did see not one, but two violent incidents on the London Underground when I visited there. In one, a white woman was verbally abusing a black woman and her child. The black woman was saying nothing but looked pretty upset. The other was a near-riot in an underground passageway, where I actually feared for my safety.
I saw a guy ripping off a car stereo outside my building once and ran to the back of the building to intercept him. (There was an alley between my building and the one next door.)
Dumb.
He was taller, faster and wired. And he had a knife.
Fortunately for me, he opted for a distraction and fleeing, versus gutting me. (I was a black belt but knife guys are fast.)
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98 comments:
Funny. But dangerous.
Alternate video title:
Bloody Loco could use the MANPADs.
Finally, a non-political story for the endlessly patient Trooper! ;)
I bet he wouldn't have been ready with such a snappy comeback if the guy had called him a candyass.
Sounds like we've found the Supreme Commander for Libya.
Just think! With mass transit catering to 98% of all Americans, you, too, could have daily adventures such as these.
Thanks, Gawker. This uncompromising piece of journalism runs rings around the NY Times.
"Recognise that sh*t, RECOGNISE, ASAP, f*cking ASAP, recognise."
Auto-tune. Now. Pleazzzze.
Hey it's not an American Idol post but it's a start.
@madawaskan
LOL.
My advice would be to do what that guy did, no one wants to get in a scrape with a gang banger on a Friday afternoon coming home from work. Going home dead is not a good idea. He'd stick you in a heartbeat.
@Maguro
Maybe not but he did the right thing by trying to defuse a situation early on. Kudos for thinking fast on his feet.
CLOSE ENOUGH!
@Trooper: Now you just need to find some way to legitimately work Joey Heatherton into all of this. ;)
BL, while coming back from his JP Morgan Chase conference at Pace University
Well I once brushed against Joey Heathetons leg and tried to talk to her about her pussy.
She called the cops.
I was single then. It was the eighties.
So kill me why don't ya.
Don't Tread 2012
Well at least someone is up on their military lingo.
Probably a UFO for most though.
I wonder what Sweater Guy is speed reading?
Auto-tune. Now. Pleazzzze.
I agree. The "Backing Up" song is classic
Well I once brushed against Joey Heathetons leg and tried to talk to her about her pussy.
She called the cops.
This would probably be the worst possible time to tell you about how I worked my way through grad school in the 80s as a professional Joey Heatherton impersonator, right...?
Yeah, Bloody Loco was yesterday's other viral BS - I opted for the dancing computer thief and the moral questions he presented.
I've seen public transportation's bulging eyed crazy guy too many times before.
"My advice would be to do what that guy did, no one wants to get in a scrape with a gang banger on a Friday afternoon coming home from work. Going home dead is not a good idea. He'd stick you in a heartbeat."
OTOH, would Bloody Loco have understood and realized the potential danger he was in had sweater guy replied with "My name is Bernhard Goetz. You'd better write that shit down ASAP!" Probably too dumb to know who Goetz is, and so Bloody Loco fucks with a mild-mannered guy that looks like an easy pushover but who instead shoots him. Sweater guy knew the type of person he was fucking with, but poor Bloody Loco (who has no reluctance to advertise the type of person he is) will one day try this stunt with someone who isn't who they appear to be (like a retired Gurkha). Then badass Bloody Loco will be nothing but a statistic.
Given my smartass ways, it's fairly certain that things would have deteriorated very soon after asking Mr. Loco if he knew what ASAP actually meant.
Always carry some insurance product that you can try to sell to anybody that hassles you.
Trooper York said...
Well I once brushed against Joey Heathetons leg and tried to talk to her about her pussy.
She called the cops.
OK, here's the Mrs Slocombe bit I tried to run past vb.
Mrs Slocombe takes her next door neigbour down to the Constabulary to get some assistance in finding her friend's cat and asks the desk sergeant, "Have you seen this woman's pussy?".
Windbag wrote:
Given my smartass ways, it's fairly certain that things would have deteriorated very soon after asking Mr. Loco if he knew what ASAP actually meant.
My guess is that something about the racial similarity of Sweater Guy and he, set Bloody Loco off. Some unspoken challenge represented by the natty sweater, as if Sweater Guy were saying, I'm more respectable than you.
It's like when a black cop harasses a black driver, for no other reason than the black guy is driving a broke down rustbucket.
He called me a pussy....
Was Loco guy in 7th grade? I'm surprised there wasn't a your momma so fat...
"Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
And, Fprawl was talking about Southern guys having a short temper.
Some unspoken challenge represented by the natty sweater, as if Sweater Guy were saying, I'm more respectable than you.
I thought it was interesting that the guy mentioned it was after the girl laughed that the guy came unglued. That might be the challenge. He, natty sweater and all, caught the girl's attention and connected with her. Mr. Loco was apparently helpless to compete on a witty level, so he took the caveman route and revved the testosterone engine. In a sense he hated the guy because he represented something that Mr. Loco can't be.
"In a sense he hated the guy because he represented something that Mr. Loco can't be."
Heh.
But then, every civilized adult represents something a ghetto thug cannot be.
I learn a lot reading the comments on this blog (and the articles, too). The 20 regular followers are entertaining. I find myself here when I'm done scanning instapundit's list, and finish my shopping on Amazon. ;)
Crimso said: "Sweater guy knew the type of person he was fucking with, but poor Bloody Loco (who has no reluctance to advertise the type of person he is) will one day try this stunt with someone who isn't who they appear to be (like a retired Gurkha)."
If NY had a concealed carry program, Mr. ASAP's position would have been more clearly defined. As it was, his intentions were fairly clear, his means not so much.
My guess is Mr. Sweater didn't have a wingman either (retired Gurkha or Marine).
I would have made him earn his name Bloody Loco.
Crimso said: "Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
LOL
Reminds me of old times.
-Wingman for hire (cheap)
My guess is that something about the racial similarity of Sweater Guy and he, set Bloody Loco off. Some unspoken challenge represented by the natty sweater, as if Sweater Guy were saying, I'm more respectable than you.
As long as we're on the topic of race, it must be said that if Sweater Guy were white, he wouldn't have reacted the way he did - more likely, he would have been piddling his pants in fear. It is a fact of modern American life that whites are afraid of minorities. Consider the way people literally bankrupt themselves buying houses they can't afford because those houses are in "good" neighborhoods. It's not hard to figure out what "good" means in this particular context.
Peter
Ditto that Crimso, ditto that.
And regarding Joey Heatherton: Wow. seldom in history has one so hot fallen so far. I'm not sure how to post a jpg in this forum, but if I knew, I wouldn't post a recent photo of Ms. Heatherton. Like the aftermath of the tsunami, she is. Trashed.
And speaking of that and ol' Liz Taylor, one has to hand it to her, she held together as an attractive woman into her late 60's/early 70's.
Uh . . . this gave me flashbacks.
I had an encounter very similar to this one last summer. I tried to help a homeless guy stow his backpack into a vehicle, and he went off on me for touching his backpack. As I drove him over to a nearby church, he continued to scream at me over and over that I was jealous of his backpack.
He was about twice my size, so I probably should have been a bit frightened. I was actually too pissed off by his behavior to be frightened.
But . . . huh. I'm feelin' the PTSD anyway.
"...if Sweater Guy were white, he wouldn't have reacted the way he did..."
Your right. White people will do nothing when challenged by a person of another race to defend life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J--C4uwYOE0&feature=related
And regarding Joey Heatherton: Wow. seldom in history has one so hot fallen so far. I'm not sure how to post a jpg in this forum, but if I knew, I wouldn't post a recent photo of Ms. Heatherton. Like the aftermath of the tsunami, she is. Trashed.
As I of course have no such reluctance, here is a picture of her ... from 2003. It is a reasonable guess that her appearance has not improved in the intervening 7+ years.
Peter
Your right. White people will do nothing when challenged by a person of another race to defend life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J--C4uwYOE0&feature=related
Please. He was a lunatic and the initial aggressor, who ended up getting arrested.
Peter
Ah, crazy loser on the subway. Brings back a memory or two. I remember one night in Boston when I was out drinking with a law school friend and some big drunk homeless guy was hassling people on the subway. We got off at Harvard Square station and so did he. The guy looks at us and says, "oh, you're getting off at Harvard Square, you must be with the Kennedys or something". This didn't sit well with my friend, who was a staunch Republican from Nebraska. Without skipping a beat, he turned to the bum and said, "well, you look and smell like a fucking Kennedy!". The guy just started to stammer and then he shuffled off. We all laughed and went to another bar. Good times.
"Please. He was a lunatic and the initial aggressor, who ended up getting arrested.
Humor escapes you.
Seriously, nerve and training is what determines one's ability to defend one's self. Or being a bit crazy. That works too I hear voices.
Welcome to my world, a blue borough, a blue county, a blue city, a blue state.
I feel like Bugs Bunny going down in a B-52 with a Gremlin at the stick,going Oooh,Eeh,Aah! Oooh,Eeh,Aah! Oooh,Eeh,Aah!
@NJ Forde
"Seriously, nerve and training is what determines one's ability to defend one's self. Or being a bit crazy."
I think in a different setting Bloody Loco wouldn't have gotten all of ASAP out of his mouth before having it shut for him first.
I base this on the corollary, 'He who talks last, loses'.
You can't fight if your talking shit, I always loved the talkers, it allowed me the extra time to decide how I was going to strike. Usually the nose works great for the first punch. Not a roundhouse, but a quick jab. That usually shuts 'em up.
Getting in the first shot always worked well for me.
"I would have made him earn his name Bloody Loco."
I wouldn't have, though. I think I'd have done about what Sweater guy did. Not much of a fighter. If I want to physically damage someone, it's either 12 ga. or chemical exposure. The former is much more immediate and needs to have clear justification in order to get away with it. The latter could be immediate (and fairly easy for a ME to detect), or greatly delayed. The ME (if one is involved) would have no reason to suspect that the leukemia that killed the person was "administered." Yeah, I know I sound like a dangerous lunatic. But I really would have to be pushed extremely far to ever consider implementing any of my contingency plans.
Ya that's why I hate the Bluetooth because now you can't spot da crazy.
Remember when the guy talkin' to himself was bat guano nut bags?
"Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
Hell, yeah. While you're leaning back to avoid punches, take your first shot stomping on an arch, second reload and try to kick a knee up towards their asshole. If this is working they should be stepping back and you stop in doing a big roundhouse on the jewels. If this is working, begin tiger punching the face, repeated blows one after another. Don't be hitting on their chest or belly.
If this doesn't work, I got nothin'. If it does, step three is whipping it out and pissing on their face.
Madawaskan wrote:
Ya that's why I hate the Bluetooth because now you can't spot da crazy.
LOL.
I love reading the anecdotes; they make people here come alive in flesh and blood.
Mine:
Today, I was parked inside my car when I turn around after hearing the most sickening thud against the door of my (new) car. An elderly couple inside a huge Dodge Ram had parked alongside me. The lady had misjudged the distance, so I roll down my window, and proceed to say sternly, "don't you see...?!". On saying that, flashback to having been present in a supermarket parking lot, when a young guy having an argument with a senior citizen, knocked off with glee, the man's fishing cap. As long as I live, I'll never forget the fright and humiliation of the trembling geezer's lips. He was a sitting duck, if the young guy wanted to continue his bullying. So, I bolt across the carpark, and let the guy have it with both barrels. He fled inside the supermarket.
Anyway, it's just a scratch. I'll have it compounded, and spare myself the memory of having turned into a Bloody Loco.
Question: Is there something about being around transportation, whether on trains, or in parking lots, that unnerves people? What's up with that?
Bloody Loco said, "I'm ready to fuck your ass up right now."
I'm not a lawyer, but when someone spits those words at me I feel directly threatened and I stop the threat. Bloody Loco presses charges, but I get off.
I'm juss sayin'.
This reminds me of the summer I lived in DC.
That should be "step" in and roundhouse the jewels and step three should not be done in a subway car or platform.
wv: kuylappl: you've got to be kidding me.
Freeman H wrote:
This reminds me of the summer I lived in DC.
Dish.
At the point that this begins, the guy handles it well.
Even better is to decline response to people who are belligerent enough to call a total stranger a "pussy." People carrying that kind of chip are just looking for an opportunity to explode into rage.
If he's a bully, he won't understand anything but a smackdown. If he's truly crazy, no telling what might set him off or what he might do, once he's set off. Our little town has more than its share of crazies. As amusing as they are, caution is advised. (One of) the problem(s) of big city life is not knowing who the crazies are.
The trick everyone learns living in a big city like New York, London, Paris or Rio is...don't look people in the eyes.
If Sweater Guy had not kept his eyesight firmly on that book (who reads a book and wears a Brooks Bros sweater on public transport, seriously), I think we all suspect Bloody Loco WOULD have earned his soubriquet.
wv: flossa (every night-a)
vbspurs
So, I bolt across the carpark, and let the guy have it with both barrels.
You be careful out there!
I think Sweater Guy brings the book as a prop. That way he doesn't have to talk to people. It's a barrier.
Looks like it didn't work this time.
A few years ago I was standing outside the north gate of Silver Spring, MD metro station waiting for a deluge of a summer storm to pass. There was a homeless guy sitting on the sidewalk about 12 ft away, raving and ranting.
Little did I know, he was ranting at me because I was inside his imaginary "space".
I'm watching the rain come down and right in front of my nose appears a fist flying by. He deliberately missed me. If he had wanted to, he could have coldcocked me. I jumped back, and yelled "hey buddy, what's the problem here", and he told me to get out of his space, which I did.
It was still pouring rain, and as I stood there a very matronly black lady came up to me and said "You handled that so well." I said "Ma'am, he's a nut job, and doesn't need any more misery in his life".
My words were prophetic. The guy a few months later moved his abode into the middle of two concrete pillars holding up the metro tracks in the middle of a six lane street. He jumped out of his space in the path of an oncoming car, and did not survive.
Hide yo kids, hide yo wife, cause it's bloody loco asap.
The song awaits. Go forth and listen.
The Crack Emcee said...
I've seen public transportation's bulging eyed crazy guy too many times before.
I ride BART and there is a fair share of 'Bloody Loco's' on it. I know in NYC they are a special breed of sub-human filth, but Bay Area BART dwellers have their own special vibe. Most of the bay area leftard pacifist pussies let these sub-humans do as they nearly please. I don't. They just pass me by because they instinctively know that I will retaliate if they try to pull their shit on me.
It was still pouring rain, and as I stood there a very matronly black lady came up to me and said "You handled that so well." I said "Ma'am, he's a nut job, and doesn't need any more misery in his life".
Nicely done, YH.
Notice how most of our anecdotes deal with the people who are like Bloody Loco or Drew's backpack guy, or your psychotic squatter. Meanwhile, Sweater Guy stands for the rest of us, who have creature comforts waiting for us at home, with the attendant smugness that suggests to those who have less.
Bloody Loco was set off by a woman laughing at him? That was as good as calling him a loser. The woman should've been more alive to the consequences of her mocking of a guy who doesn't look like he has much to lose in life.
"...don't look people in the eyes."
What kind of existence is it to avoid eye contact with people in public; to submit to threats of violence and intimidation?
I don't walk around staring people down; I smile and greet them. Maybe have a polite conversation. It's a great way to walk through life. I've lived in some of the largest cities in the U.S. and been to some of the most dangerous places on this planet. I've met the craziest of the crazy. They feed off fear. Confidence is their kryptonite. Predators prey on the weak (or those who appear weak).
I can't imagine living a life of fear and submission. I would rather die with my head up than live hiding from the world. There's just too much to be missed.
But, that's how I see it. Others see the world through a different lens.
White people will do nothing when challenged by a person of another race...
Yeah, like white, NYC subway rider Bernard Getz; Here, have another (cap in your ass).
Moral: Always reserve your right to exercise the 2nd Amendment.
And like Travis said, "Anywhere, anytime."
No, no. Not all people, NJ, and not everywhere. Not at the opera or ballpark. But in crowded, tense, anonymous public places, yes.
It's funny, but men will whizz against a wall all in a row outside a bar or a stadium, in very tight formations, but there's more tension in doing so in a public toilet.
Life is full of unspoken meanings.
Dish.
That was over a decade ago, so I can't remember all the details perfectly, but I'll give you the gists of the ones I remember.
There was the bum (young, muscular man with nice clothes) I passed who chased me to ask for money, and then, when I ignored him, grabbed me and demanded money. (I didn't give it to him. Just wrenched away and ran across the street.)
There was the nice looking, middle-aged man in business attire standing by a pay phone on Father's Day asking if anyone had some quarters so that he could call his Dad. When I stopped to look in my purse for change but found only pennies and told him so, he got in my face and screamed, "Bitch! Don't you lie to me! Give me a fuckin' quarter!"
There was the man who asked me to dance at a club, and when I said no, that I was there with my friends and needed to stay with them, dragged me into a thick crowd by the wrist and tried to force me to dance with him. (Got free and shoved him as hard as I could. He tripped on the people behind him, and I ran away.)
There was the construction worker repairing the sidewalk who hissed, "Girl, I'd like to fuck you," just inches from me, actually spitting the word "fuck" into my face, as I passed.
There was the woman with a posterboard that said something like "Half Hungarian and Polish Jews Rape Women and Kill Children." When I made a mild wisecrack to a friend about it after we passed, the woman went ballistic and screamed that I would change my mind when one of them caught me and raped me. (That's when I learned not to make wisecracks around crazy or aggressive strangers.)
And finally, there was the huge Russian guy with bulging eyes who sat down next to me at an ice cream shop where we had this conversation:
Man: "Do you like snakes?"
Me: "Uh, the animal?"
Man: "Yes, do you like them?"
Me: "I guess they're fine."
Man: "Want to come and see my snake?"
Me: "What?"
Man: "You come to my apartment, and I show you my snake."
Me: "Nah, that's okay. Thanks for the offer though."
Man: "NO! YOU COME TO MY APARTMENT TO SEE MY SNAKE!"
Me: "Oh, look it's my friend outside. Hang on, I'll get her." Bolt outside and run away.
Most of those incidents, except for the quarters and the dance club, took place in Georgetown on M Street, supposedly a better part of the city.
DC, nice town if you like that sort of thing.
Crikey, Freeman . . .
I'll always think of you now getting ready to bolt!
There was the woman with a posterboard that said something like "Half Hungarian and Polish Jews Rape Women and Kill Children." When I made a mild wisecrack to a friend about it after we passed, the woman went ballistic and screamed that I would change my mind when one of them caught me and raped me. (That's when I learned not to make wisecracks around crazy or aggressive strangers.)
Let me guess.
Freeman Hunt, sotto voce to friend: "I wonder what full Hungarian or Polish Jews do?".
Everyone can bring the crazy, but I have found that anti-semites have a hamster-wheel of crazy going on up there.
That's when I learned not to make wisecracks around crazy or aggressive strangers
You've got to admit that's an important lesson to learn.
I never had any major metro issues in DC (except for the damnable tourists who could never seem to figure out the system on the escalator. Hint, move right if you aren't moving!). I did have a creepy van follow me around one time when I (foolishly) decided to walk home from the metro near Tysons one night around 1am.
I had many favorite homeless guy moments, though! There was the jerky guy who tried to get me to give him my sandwich and griped at me when I only gave him chips. I almost called the cops on him because I don't like people hanging out on my building steps around midnight harassing tenants.
My favorite was the guy who had a fishing pole on M street on the way into Gtown wish a big arrow pointing to a bowl for money. My friends favorite was the beggar guy who told us he took credit cards.
A bag lady on a subway once called me "a big nose Jew with a little dick."
Boy, did she look stupid when I told her I'm not Jewish.
D'oh!
There was the construction worker repairing the sidewalk who hissed, "Girl, I'd like to fuck you," just inches from me, actually spitting the word "fuck" into my face, as I passed.
Well, we're curious, you didn't say whether that line worked.
:)
When I lived near Harvard Square in the late '80s there was a homeless guy that hung out near the stairs to the subway. He didn't say much except to bellow "Change!" every few seconds. As a subway commuter I heard that guy every morning and afternoon for months. It got to be a challenge: "Change!" ... your socks? "Change!"... your hairstyle, those bangs are so out. "Change!" ... ch-ch-chain(ge) of fools... "Change!" ... no, thanks, I like things the way they are...
Live entertainment, we used to call it.
I went through some crap akin to what Fremen describes but I've repressed the details. The one subway encounter I remember was coming home from a BSO concert and seeing some punk-ass rich boy high school kid marking up the train with a sharpie. I told him to knock it off, and reminded him that his parents' taxes had bought that train and would have to pay to have it cleaned. The kid tried to sneer at me but ended up looking sheepish.
Well, we're curious, you didn't say whether that line worked.
Heh. He didn't even say it in a way that conveyed desire. The tone was more of the "go to hell, bitch" variety.
Manhattan-bound No. 7 train at night, passing through Jackson Heights in Queens. Too early in the year to be some crazy/angry/drunk Mets fan coming home from CitiField, and no express service at this time of day.
Just Loco.
"...actually spitting the word "fuck" into my face, as I passed."
The rude ones don't even wanna swap spit first, so this guy's a keeper.
Bloody Loco is bloody commonplace. If you ride public transit in a major city, you meet him regularly. Sometimes he hurts someone, but that's rare. More often he gets a beat down, but in the overwhelming majority of cases most people do just what sweater guy did, which is why the Bloody Locos are as common as cockroaches.
Sweater guy is being praised, and maybe he did the smart thing for himself, but the sad truth is that Loco will do this over and over until he gets a different reaction, which will then actually end it for everyone from this guy.
Bring on that public transit. Then we
can exchange carbon footprints for bloody ones on our backs.
I just bought a new V8 pickup truck today. I'm a carbon insensitive lout, but I never have to deal with Bloody Locos, which is good for both of us.
San Fransisco, about 1997.
Walking back from my conference downtown through a shitty neighborhood on the way back to my hotel. Getting dark, about 8 at night. Warm. Summer.
I suddenly notice that I am being followed. Now two, now three men. Both sides of the street, coming up behind me, fast.
So I act like a crazy man, shouting at an imaginary voice in Spanish, Latin, gibberish. Turned around and yelled to them, Help me Goddamnit!
They stopped, turned, and walked away, leaving me to wrestle with my demons alone.
A 14-year-old girl and her mother are at the doctor's, when the doctor says that the girl has gonorrhea. "That's absolutely impossible!" the girl's mother angrily says. "My daughter is a virgin. She must have gotten it from a toilet seat!"
"Perhaps so, Ma'am," the doctor replies. "Given the location of the infection, your daughter apparently was licking the seat."
Peter
As NYC subway jerks go, he doesn't even make the top 10%. He can pull this line a finite number of times before something very bad happens to him. He's probably been beaten down a few times already. That's what makes him such an asshole....There's no way a sane person can win a confrontation with such a person, but lots of crazy people wear sweaters, read books, and were on the wrestling team in college. Loco's number will come up....At any rate, from here in NYC, that's why Madison looks so Utopian. All those demonstrators and none of them look rabid or physically threatening.
Congrats on the new truck bagho.
Are you a Dodge man?
For some of us a Prius can't be our only car ;-) ;-)
And finally, there was the huge Russian guy with bulging eyes who sat down next to me at an ice cream shop where we had this conversation:
Man: "Do you like snakes?"
Me: "Uh, the animal?"
Man: "Yes, do you like them?"
Me: "I guess they're fine."
Man: "Want to come and see my snake?"
Me: "What?"
Man: "You come to my apartment, and I show you my snake."
Me: "Nah, that's okay. Thanks for the offer though."
Man: "NO! YOU COME TO MY APARTMENT TO SEE MY SNAKE!"
Me: "Oh, look it's my friend outside. Hang on, I'll get her." Bolt outside and run away.
Oh, God. That was YOU -- ?!?
Jal, Yes, I am now. I had a Nissan Titan for 6 years, and I would have bought another one, but they haven't upgraded it in all that time. The newer technology Dodge is wonderful. I hope it's as reliable as my big Nissan was.
Hey Trooper -- what was the name of the viking who stood on the street corner in downtown Manhatten in the 60s?
Moon Dog?
He didn't harass people. He just stood there IIRC
I've lived in New York City for a long time, and I'm almost never bothered by people. This could have something to do with the fact that I'm 6 feet tall, north of 300 pounds with a beard and a shaved head and I almost always wear my vintage Ray-Ban Balorama sunglasses when I'm out.
Another key element, as mentioned by other commenters, is to never be afraid.
Army kid got himself a Dodge PowerWagon he had been dreaming an plotting for back in 2005. (He was home on leave from Iraq and there it was, right down the street from him!)
Very cool truck but a total pain -in - the butt maintenance wise. Too many proprietary things because it was special line.
So he went with something he could work on himself. All the time. And now he drives an old reworked International Scout he put a 7.3 liter Powerstroke diesel in.
I think he would have kept reading his book on the subway as long as the guy was just acting out at him.
But I can't imagine him in a light blue sweater.
In the catgory of amusing encounters with crazy street people goes this. In late 1987- early 1988 there was a crazy woman on State Street that I noticed several times, making the mental note as I passed her "Geez, evidently she's crazier than a shithouse rat!"
As it turns out this was Laurie Dann (as in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laurie_Dann), and she had a thing for riding elevators in the Towers apartments much of the day.
So, the basic problem with these crazy street people is - are they harmless?
Update
vbspurs may be on to something as those two look alike. It may be some type of mirror effect that that he unable to handle psychologically as odds are good the kid had drugged out abusive parents. "I aint scared."
<interracial anecdote>
I was out club hopping with friends whereupon we encountered an acquaintance of one of the friends who attached himself to our party. We were walking down the sidewalk to another nearby club when a van turned left immediately in front of us into an alley. Had the van been any closer it would have run over our toes. A matter of simple misjudgment by the driver.The new guy in our group pounded on the side of the van as it passed in front of us to express his displeasure. The van driver slammed on the brakes and a guy got out to investigate if he had hit somebody. A responsible thing to do. Seeing that nobody was hurt and that his van was simply pounded angered him and the two exchanged angry words. The van driver goes,
"I got sumthin for your ass. Yeah, I got sumthin for your ass in my van."
He quickly turned back to his van.
I'm thinking, "Oh, shit. He going to get a gun." So I yell,
"RUN !"
To my distress the new guy to our group idiotically stands there to face off. The van driver comes back with a fire extinguisher, aims it at us, and fogs up the whole night-time street. We all cracked up laughing so hard we were falling about the place in stitches and couldn't hasten away. But this etched a lasting impression upon my youthful mind and I knew right away this acquaintance would be trouble, a conclusion that would born out repeatedly.
</interracial anecdote>
It will go like this..Loco will one day have the good fortune to pick on a 5'7" 175lb cinder-block of an ex- college football player cum ex-fighter-pilot cum current contract hit-man for the CIA who runs guns to motor-cycle gangs on the side and always carries concealed no matter which jurisdiction he's in.....Loco(motive) Choo Choo time for Loco..
(Such people exist--one is one of my best friends)
In a "what goes around" world I predict "Bloody Loco" will be bloody dead within the year. No matter how crazy tough you think you are there's always someone crazier and tougher who will get off the train with you and make you regret it.
Does the word "locovore" apply to this tread at all? Yeah, I didn't think so...
"-Wingman for hire (cheap)"
Not so cheap here.
Sweater guy shouldn't have had his face in the book-- predators attack when one's attention is diverted.
With NYC's -- indeed the entire state of NY-- oppressive and unconstitutional gun laws I called NYPD and asked how large of a knife I would be able to carry there. Sorry Crocodile Dundee, but they said a blade no longer than the width of one's palm is okay. I guess it doesn't matter to them that hands come in many sizes. At my age a nice walking stick or cane doesn't seem out of place either, they'll even let you take it on the plane.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01NHcTM5IA4
vbspurs said:
"So, I bolt across the carpark, and let the guy have it with both barrels."
I can't use that phrase because it would mean something entirely different coming from me. And it would be somewhat unlikely to require the use of both.
This is why I don't carry (and besides it's hard to conceal a Model 1911). I am afraid if I was confronted by some goon on a bad day I would empty the magazine into him.
Funniest subway lunatic I encountered was in 1967 at the Jackson and State subway station in Chicago. There was a guy in loin cloth with a Bowie knife on his hip and nothing else. It was January and the temperature was -10
He was a Neanderthal boy looking for his Neanderthal girl
I travel all over the country for my job and, many times, make use of public transportation. I see way more of this kind of behavior in areas that prohibit law abiding citizens from carrying weapons to protect themselves from the Bloody Loco types. An armed society is a polite society.
Great site here for thoughts on violence, fighting and de-escalation:
http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/deescalation.htm
Some cities are definitely worse than others.
I've been to just about every major city in the United States and utilized many many sidewalks and various forms of public transit, but I don't have such stories for any other city except Little Rock, and even from there I have only one.
The snake guy thing was the last one to happen while I lived there, and I distinctly remember thinking, "Man, I hate this town!" as I ran out the door.
The DC tourist stuff is nice, but the living there stuff is wretched.
I ride the MTA Subway and the PATH all the time. I've seen a little horsing around by kids, but never anyone losing it. New Yorkers generally have long fuses.
But I did see not one, but two violent incidents on the London Underground when I visited there. In one, a white woman was verbally abusing a black woman and her child. The black woman was saying nothing but looked pretty upset. The other was a near-riot in an underground passageway, where I actually feared for my safety.
I saw a guy ripping off a car stereo outside my building once and ran to the back of the building to intercept him. (There was an alley between my building and the one next door.)
Dumb.
He was taller, faster and wired. And he had a knife.
Fortunately for me, he opted for a distraction and fleeing, versus gutting me. (I was a black belt but knife guys are fast.)
Wow, Freem.
Seven incidents?
Was this a weekend stay?
Glad I keep a brace of .38 derringers in my boots.
For social occasions.
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