So after I confronted them, I took a picture of their license plate and one of them got up in my grill. And wanted to know why I took a picture of his truck plate. There is something you should know about me. I am probably one of the most calm people you will ever meet. At work, I'm the one that they always make the irate people talk to because I never lose my cool. But there are certain things (like dumping garbage in my alley) that set me off. Among the things that sets me off is when someone tries to intimidate me.
I'm only 5'8" and I weigh 155 lbs, but I am freakishly strong and I fight better than any derivatives lawyer in this town. I know that's like saying I'm the toughest kid on the chess team, but I am really pretty good at it...partly from growing up in Brooklyn, but mostly from fighting my older brother who is bigger and meaner than me (my brother was the victim of seven attempted muggings in NY, and only once did anyone get any money off of him). I never actually beat him. My record is 499 loses, 0 wins and 1 draw, but the process toughened me up. My brother now claims he was doing me a favor by ramming my face against furniture to practice WWF wrestling moves. Because now if someone on the street attempts to get me into a Figure Four Leg Lock, I'll know how to get out it. That's what passes for logic in my immediate family.
So here I am in flip-flops and shorts and a t-shirt in the middle of winter in front of 2 people in a dark alley and I did the dumbest thing imaginable. I put the camera in my back pocket and said "I took a picture of it because I'm going to turn it over to the cops...what are you gonna' do about it?" Then there was more yelling back-and-forth. I think since I wasn't in the least intimidated by them--and was half-nekkid--they thought I was a nut, and they might be right.
In between the yelling they communicated that they were working for the sudanese guy. I said "yeah?" then I ran up the stairs and started banging on the back door. The 6 sudanese guys living that room, who probably thought I was from immigration, turned off the lights and pretended not to be home. I kept banging and yelling until one of them opened the door and he claimed not to know who those guys were...and he said that none of them lived there; they were all just visiting a friend.
So I told the Salvadorans that I was gonna talk to the sudanese guy and if he didn't know who they were, I was calling the cops. And that was that.
I still haven't talked to the sudanese guy. I think I'll take the sage advice of others and just report them to the city. My latin machismo feels like this is the cowardly way to do it (I would like to just get up in his grill and tell him that if it's not out by next friday I'm coming to kick his ass) but that is probably the dumbest thing possible. As a libertarian, I also feel weird about narc'ing on someone. I think people should solve their own problems without government interference, but I don't think I can be rational with this guy, so I better let the city handle it.
I was talking to my neighbor about it and he said I should call the city too. I told him why I hesitated calling them before, you know, because of the genocide and everything. It went something like this:
Neighbor: yeah, you shoulda' called the city a long time ago.
Ninja: you're right. But the guy is sudanese...what if he survived genocide and I narc on him? That's not cool.
Neighbor: Yeah, genocide is a bitch, man...but so is garbage in your alley.
So here is the plan: this weekend I'm removing anything from my yard that would result in a fine to me, and I'm calling the city. This has gone on for a year, so enough is enough. I fill you in on what happens afterwards.
(by the way, the ninja pic is from www.askaninja.blogspot.com))
6 comments:
Hey - it was great to talk to you last night. And I love the little ninja... chipmunk? Adorable, yet stealthy.
I'm afraid I'm a bad person because your neighbor's words made me laugh out loud. Oh lord.
Convincing people that you're crazy can be a great asset in a situation like yours. While I can't claim a rough upbringing in the big city, my high school was a pretty good approximation (Eight students we're killed my first year).
I quickly discovered that if you could convince the gangsters that you worshipped Satan that they didn't want anything to do with you. And, you only had to convince them once. Word spreads fast.
Ooooh, I can't wait for the conclusion...
And for the record, in person you appear much more solid and potentially intimidating than your height/weight stats would suggest. Just sayin'.
You really are a ninja! Wow. I thought your blog name was a joke, but ... it's real! I salute you.
Thanks, Stef. I am looking for a moniker, but I don't think he's it. Maybe I'll draw something.
Jamy, don't worry. God is a very forgiving person...unless you read the old testament, in which case he is unexplicably moody and vindictive.
John. Crazy is easier than going to the gym five times a week and drinking Weight Gainer 5000.
Kathryn, thanks. When I work out wiht Johnny Vegas, who is bigger than me, he is surprised that I can lift more than him. I think it has something to do with when I saved that Tribal Shaman and he gave some kind of amulet of unlimited power. I sold on it ebay, but still...
Thanks, Reya, but I'm not proud of it. I should really not be doing stuff that could get me dis-barred. Although if I worked for Dick Cheney, I could probably do much worse and still get away with it like Scooter Libby...allededly.
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