There’s no easy way to say this: I just got punched in the face by a crazy man. I know, it’s awkward. I was sitting in the sun in a small empty street near my office. I was reading a book about sharks. I was very content. Then I hear some angry muttering and look up to see a not unthreatening looking man walking toward me and talking seemingly to himself. I started to get that voice in my head that says things like what the hell are you doing alone in this alleyway on 6th street? This voice however is usually more alarmist than it needs to be. This time however I had the feeling that this was not going to be good. The man crosses to my sidewalk and is still talking angrily as he passes in front of me. I glance up realizing for sure that this is not going to be good, and he punches me hard in the face, his fist connecting squarely with my cheekbone. Yes. Then he starts yelling at me about how he did not steal my baby and how he is going to fuck me up if I don’t back off. He was looking at me, but the words that were coming out of his mouth were so divorced from the present situation that we could have been in different worlds, except we were in the same world and he had just punched me. I was still sitting there stunned when he walked off down the street pausing every once in awhile to turn and yell about how he definitely did not steal my baby.
I wander back to the office dazed an crying. The police are called. I am told not to sit in empty alleyways. I am told that San Francisco has the highest population of mentally ill citizens in the country. I am reminded that even though Obama has triumphed and everything is rainbows and butterflies there is still a lot of weird shit going on in this place we call America.