Last night, something very strange happened.
I was driving home from a friend’s place. I watched a man stumble on the sidewalk then fall into the street. He hit his head pretty hard on the road. Instead of getting out of the street, he sat on the curb with legs still in the right lane.
I watched him almost get hit by two cars, so I pulled off onto a side street. I went to him along with another woman who pulled off too.
The man was inebriated beyond belief. He kept mumbling about how he lost his glasses, and that’s why he fell. He refused to move back away from the street. We watched him almost have his legs run over several times by passing cards that could barely see him because of how dark it was.
During most of this, the other woman was on the phone with the police. Te man was shouting at us to not freak out every time we almost saw his legs ripped off.
When he did finally get up, he started staggering toward us in pursuit slurring “Let’s get this straightened out.” We both ran away, but by this time police were near. I hopped in my car and drove off.
Throughout the entirety of this incident, I was scared shitless that I was going to watch a man die. All I could think of was the time my friends and I passed a dead Fed Ex driver at an accident scene. The truck was smashed in a way that his body was stuck, but the emergency workers had taken the door off in their efforts to get the body free. So the bloody, maimed body was out for all to see.
Anyhow, the drunk man kept shouting at us and calling us bitches because we were so worried about him.
I had to remind myself that this isn’t Indiana anymore. I’d stopped being a Good Samaritan after living in Florida for a month. And his rude behavior despite the fact we were trying to help him reminded me why. Also, this is a “Stand Your Ground” state, so I definitely have no business sticking my neck out for crazies.
Ain’t nobody got time for that.