All of these events happened in January 2009.
I’m riding the bus when I hear this person behind me, evidently on a cellphone, start a conversation with “Yo, b***””. Now, I’m not one to judge how others treat their friends, but that was, in a public setting, distracting. More disturbing, though, was this person’s apparent vendetta against some 3rd party. Apparently, the person on the other line said something conciliatory re: said 3rd party, but my caller said, “When I hate someone, I really HATE ’em!”
Then the 2nd party mentions the 3rd party’s mother. 1st party: “Oh, someone should just SHOOT HER!” I discovered that the 1st party, who turned out to be male (but with a higher-pitched voice, which threw me on my identification) was 1) from out of town and 2) going to go to the military recruiting station. I realized that if this person did not notice the building, I wouldn’t tell him. Alas, he did find it.
You should understand that, as a librarian and as a Christian, I always try to help someone when I can. I was walking by another person who was standing in the 200 block of Washington Avenue, but told someone on her cellphone (a friend or a cab) that she was on the 200 block of Central Avenue. It was an easy mistake; this particular block is across the street from the FIRST block of Central Avenue. So I interrupted the caller and corrected her; she was very appreciative.
The would-be recruit, though, I would have let ride past his stop until he was miles away. I realized that this person, so filled with hate, and proud of it, I didn’t really want in the U.S. military. I was surprised that I could develop such an antipathy for someone whose face I never saw until he deboarded the bus. I wonder how good the psychological testing is for those entering military service?
Oh, and speaking of cellphones: I was crossing the street and this woman, I thought, was calling to me. No, she was on one of those hands-free devices, and when I turned around, she looked at me as though I were crazy. I have long thought that if EVERYONE had one of those instruments, we could all going around talking, with no one would know if we were talking to others or just to ourselves, and no one would know who really WAS crazy. ROG