2 AM: Woke up in my RV to a white girl screaming and beating on a man’s car. She opens his door. A black man gets out. She pushes him several times. Another woman is walking away from the scene. The assailant then goes to the sidewalk. The man follows her. He pushes her hard against the wall. Then slugs her once, taking her to the pavement.
I put my shorts on, throw open the door, and say “That’s enough! Or I’m calling the cops!” (Yes, I threatened police) Smelling of beer, he comes up to me and says that he didn’t even know her.
“Don’t act like you’re hard!” he says.
I admit that I saw her beating on his vehicle, and pushing him, and that I wanted to go back to sleep, then walk back inside the RV. Another bald-headed white dude comforts the girl for a minute, and she’s soon back on her feet.
Of course I won’t be going back to sleep. Five minutes pass, and after the white guy leaves, she gets in the black man’s car, and he apparently takes her home. Paranoid about anybody fucking with my RV, I take the opportunity to move it to the other side of the street. As I’m walking back to my car, I see that the man is back. Another conversation is inevitable. I cross the street prematurely to make sure that it happens. He storms out of his vehicle.
“Everything alright now?” I ask. “I don’t appreciate you threatening to call the cops!” he exclaims, now threatening to “knock me out also.” I then defuse the situation further (because fighting street dwellers is hardly worth a court date), asking rhetorical questions about the situation, and that I was just looking to stop it before things got worse.
He immediately loses his tough guy tone, becomes rather friendly, and explains that he sees me come and go in my RV all the time, and that we’re neighbors, that he doesn’t usually hit women, and then lastly gives me advice on where I should park on the street to avoid tickets. Tells me his name is Sean. I shake his hand.
At this point the girl returns -- along with a big Hispanic dude: her husband, who’s driving them. “That’s him, that’s him!” she says. Staying in the car, he gets on his phone and makes a couple circles. “Get out of here,” Sean says. I jump in my car and begin taking off. For some reason, the driver decides not to stay there on the street with Sean, but instead follows me. Not really wanting to be a part of this matter any further — as I didn’t know any of these people, and that the situation looked rather gray — I figure its better to stop and finish it.
We’re at a gas station less than a block away. She says: “Pull over. Pull over.” I stop and before I finish opening the door the lights and sirens come straight at us, two bright beams fixated right on me. I throw my hands up.
“Not the suspect!” I yell. “Not the suspect!”
The husband confirms this. The younger cop: “Sit on the curb right there.” He doesn’t seem jumpy.
Then begins a twenty-minute breakdown of the situation. The girl’s husband is cool, just wanting to know what happened. Honest as I always am, I tell the whole story. I woke up to her beating the car of a man she was soon pushing and screaming at. I saw the man push and slug her once each. Then he took her home. I didn’t know any of them, and was only speaking to him on the way back merely due to the situation.
She’s hysterical, and denying to her husband and the police that she either pushed him or accepted his offer home. The sheriff pulls up and I tell my side one more time. The cops take my word — the sober one out tonight. Sean has disappeared, but his parents pull up to the scene, and I momentarily mistake them for him. (I was 30 feet away, and they were parked behind my car)
“I’m not saying you’re lying, dude,” the husband tells me. I hope not. I don’t really know how to. And while his wife had obviously lied about a few things, maybe she was still correct in saying that Sean was berating his own girlfriend in the car. I’m now drinking coffee and about to have a meatball sub, hoping I did alright.
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Staying ON During the Great Reset
Indictments from the Convicted