Ain’t no love in the heart of the city, Ain’t love in the heart of town…
So today, I was walking down Market Street in Downtown Philadelphia with my co-workers for our first annual Staff Fun Day (don’t ask as I will get to that in another post).We had just finished a tour of the city, which I had been living in for a total of 27 years (my boss’s idea), and were on our way to grab a bite to eat at a local Italian restaurant.We were walking, minding our own business and laughing about the tour, when out of the corner of my eye, I see this dude standing to the left of my one of co-workers.The dude, who was wearing a sleeveless sweater, blue jeans and straw cowboy hat, not only stood out like a sore thumb for his unique taste in summer fashion but the way that he was eyeballing my co-worker.“C,” as we will refer to her, was oblivious to the man with the serious eye problem and was chatting away to me about her sister’s visit to the NAACP convention. As we drew closer to him, I got an uneasy feeling in my stomach that something strange was about to happen.I clenched at the umbrella I had been carrying for the forecasted rain, prepared to use it as a weapon if needed. The man began to pace side to side, still maintaining his stare at “C.”I expected him to reach out and snatch her pocketbook, which she had hoisted over her left shoulder, closer to his proximity. Before I could warn her, the man with the sleeveless sweater and straw cowboy hat, did something totally unexpected.
Instead, he leaped in her path, pointed at her vagina & yell loud enough for the entire block of 8th and Market to hear, "COVER THAT UP. JUDGEMENT DAY IS COMING.” Then he walked away, still mumbling his warning about appropriate dress for judgment day.
My co-worker, who was nicely dressed in some black tights, a multi-colored shirt and some flats, would probably not be considered obscene by even the strictest standards. Therefore, the only logical conclusion was that this man, with the straw hat and sleeveless sweater in 87 degree weather, is what we call out in the streets, “touched in the head.” Admittedly though, He startled the shit out of us. However in true big city fashion, we kept walking like it happens all the time (because it actually does). No need to make a scene because, again in true big city fashion, nobody around us would be willing to help defend us anyway.
Most who witnessed the incident didn’t break step and actually walked faster, I guess hoping to put some distance between them and us.Some brave souls took a peek out of the corner of their eyes, while others kept their head low. I guess they figured that street abuse was contagious and if they met eye contact with any of us, then they would somehow find themselves on the recipient end of the crazy straw man rant. A couple of folks even had the nerve to turned and stare at us oddly as if we were to blame for this. As busy of a sideway Market Street is during that time of day, most people branched away from us as if the crazy man with the straw hat was Moses and they were the Red Sea.
As we hurried away, unharmed, I wondered what if the crazy straw hat man spouting off about judgment day would have attacked me and my co-worker.What if he had a knife or worse?Would folks just walking pass be obliged to intervene then? Probably not.Unfortunately, we live in a time when self-preservation triumphs heroism.And while I wasn’t necessarily expecting anyone to step in and beat the crap out the dude, an acknowledging glance or sympathetic head shake would have at least let me know that we weren’t alone.
But I can’t be too hard on folks.It’s not like we called the police and reported that there was a crazy man about harassing folks out on the street.Perhaps if we did, we could have saved the next passerby with tights the trouble of being scared half to death. I guess that will be our other sin we would have to answer to when Judgment Day finally comes to past. COMING." He kept yelling that shit over & over again.
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