The Beer Burper and the Bee Bop Buster

I must have "come harass me" tattooed on my forehead. It seems I've had the run of the luck these days with random seedy gentleman making me pay for being out at night.

New Year's Eve

To many, New Year's Eve was a moment of rebirth, renewal, resolution to make the next year better than the year before. To me, it was merely a transition in name alone--the same sense of loss was sure to greet me in 2009, and the journey will continue long after 2009 is put to rest. Moving through grief has no real "new year's resolution"; cliché themes of new gym memberships, self-improvement projects, and saying no to chocolate have little influence on processing the pain of losing a loved one. You can no more "resolve" to be happy as you can easily "forget" all that defines 2008. It was a hellish year and will go down as the worst year of my life. But, our "year" is not yet over. By New Years, it had only been 6 months since our mom's passing and 3 months for Craig's; we had not yet met hell's horizon.

"Turning of a new leaf" is now a simple, everyday ambition restated in the familiar phrase "take one day at a time". Things have taken a new meaning--focus on today, find small wins, make each day count. These simple goals for getting through were as important and present on December 31st as they were on January 1st or today, February 11th. To embrace New Year's as something more than that with grand statements and lofty goals seemed artificial and something more for those whose largest concern is a tightening waist band.

I wasn't sulking; I just related differently to the significance and wanted to be alone with the memories of Mom and Craig. Despite feeling a bit solemn and/or annoyed at the merrymakers and their kazoos, I fancied up and took myself out to dinner only to find that Thai food was the only thing available in 'bustling' Silver Spring. This CRACKED me up and was the shot in the arm I needed. I left around 9:45 and began my short walk home, bee-bopping and smiling all the while. Until....  

As I walked across one side of the street onto the sidewalk, I noticed a man approaching quickly from the other direction. I took notice of his speed and put in place certain self-defense measures I learned back in the day. (secret  knowledge). It was a dark sidewalk without many options to transition paths, etc, so I kept walking. The next time I glanced back (which was within moments of first noticing him), he was right behind me within two feet of me on my left side--close enough to pull my ponytail--and moved to my right when I noticed him. I quickly pivoted to my right and squared my shoulders, when another gentleman approached from the metro station causing the guy to move away. He scurried off to the side and eventually up the stairs after watching me. It's anyone's guess what, if anything, he had in mind. I could have simply been in his way when he wanted to zigzag across the sidewalk and up the stairs. Who knows...

Last Week

I went across the street to purchase a few items from the local Rite Aid. Being observant and keeping "situational awareness" is part of my field--helps aid the ever annoying "that's a design issue" statements. As I passed through my apartment lobby, I noticed a man sitting in one of our lobby chairs drinking a beer. As I left, I saw in the reflection of the window that he was watching me.

Fast forward a bit and I'm standing in an aisle at the Rite Aid when I heard what sounded like a burp and someone bumping into a stand of chips. I turned to the noise, as anyone would. (It's a hardwired defense mechanism for seemingly all living beings from deer to people. One turns toward a signal whether noise or light, assesses it, processes it, and determines an action; that process happens in milliseconds/seconds most of the time. Usually we aren't even aware because USUALLY the noise isn't a threat and no action is required.) Until... 

I turned to the noise and noticed the same man now walking towards me. Perhaps it was only coincidental he was now in the same isle of the same store, or maybe he followed me. Who knows. I turned back to what I was doing and he began yelling at me, "What are you looking at"? Technically I was now looking at a card, so that's how I responded. Clearly drunk, he positioned as if engaging for a regular brouhaha. Now a bit annoyed, I answered his second question a bit more pointedly, "Sir, I'm not looking at you. I'm trying to read a card." As he left, I thought, crap now I need a strategy in the event he's still outside. As I left, I noticed him take off from a nearby bus station, towards my apartment complex, but then crossed the street.

Both occasions are fairly benign and forgettable moments, but I immediately thought of calling Craig for reassurance and a quick laugh. We would have surely made fun of the Beer Burper and the Bee Bop Buster, and perhaps he would have used that as material in a future story or song. It was JUST the type of tale in which he would have said, "Well. Be careful.", but would have relayed to his friends... 

~E