8:24 a.m. - 09.08.2004
She's Going the Distance...
It's come to my attention that drug addicts make for really bad fighters. I mean really bad. They just don't have the attention span for it.
Walking home yesterday down Broadway I heard a big commotion and noticed a group of gutter punks (you know the type, dirty, strung-out panhandlers, prone to mohawks, pit-bull ownership, and a Mad Max-wardrobe) were all gathered around these two girl gutter punks who were exchanging words. One had a big ol pit bull in tow, natch.
Anyhoo, the slurred shouting escalates, the streets are beginning to fill with bemused onlookers like myself, and all the gutter punk dudes have actually lost interest and have started moving base-camp to another street corner.
Anyways, they finally decide to come to blows. One girl throws a slow-motion punch at the other from 10 feet away, and surprisingly misses. The second girl steps up to bat with a swing and a miss, and just as soon as the whole ugly affair started, the two are walking their separate ways, half-heartedly whimpering their parting insults while desperately gasping to regain their breath, having exerted themselves more with those one punches than they might all week. Probably one of the funnier things I’ve seen.
My dad and his wife were just out visiting me and, being country-folk, she (the wife) was diving into stores and locking herself in cars at the very site of a street person, for fear of bodily harm I suppose. Little does she know that these heroin addicts have about as much strength and interest in street fighting as an Amazon Tree Sloth (read: none.) So when they do get to scrapping and you’re nearby, pull up a chair and enjoy the show – it’s gonna be a quick one.