Criminals and Lunatics

This was what I faced trying to get a navy blue suit jacket.

Large cities are Janus-like. I experienced both in my shopping adventures today.

I went to Queen Street West, where hipsters dwell. This was a nice part - I shopped around, drank some Starbucks Coffee, looked at some nice tweed jackets. It was cool, even though there were uncool hipsters - one guy in a long furry jacket, white guy dreads, skinny. A goof. I even passed by City Hall, which was a cool piece of architecture. It was sunny, and people were skating by.

Then I passed by my apartment into the east. A car accident on one street. A lonely park, grey, as the sun was setting. Then a guy came up. He looked decent, but tough. He said he'd been robbed. He begged for train fare money. I gave him 50 cents. "That was all I had, honestly." I really thought he was real - he wasn't a professional begger. There was real emotion in his voice.

I felt guilty all the way to Goodwill. It was closed. Ha, I'd been punished. I should have gotten him money with my credit card. I should have given him shelter. But then the what ifs got to me. What if he got robbed in a drug deal? What if he was lying, and about to rob me when I tried to help me?

I still think I should have helped him, and I would've, had I found him. What I found instead was a little cut of urban horror.

Crazy Bike Guy is all I know him as. He looked like this guy, only more deranged. He rode, stopped, muttered something to me...or something. I did my usual survival mechanism of not stopping.

He rode on, then, at the scene of accident, he pointed at me. His mouth was open like a scream, moving as if to form words. Nothing in him stopped. I smiled a peace smile, too small for him to see, but good enough for me. He kept biking as I crossed.

Then I got into the building. He was right outside. I just kept walking. He was carrying his bike. Now, we have security, but they sometimes let people into the building anyway. Maybe they would let him in. Maybe he'd come, and do something. This was what I thought as I waited for the elevator.

Take the goddamn stairs, I thought. The elevators were slow. Then wheels bumping came in. There it was, crazy bike guy, come to punish me. No, wait for the elevators, deny, I thought, oh God. Bump bump...they were having an awkward time on the wheels. Up the steps to the elevators...

It was a grocery cart, and a middle-aged woman, going up to the 13th floor. Relief.

God works in mysterious ways. Maybe, I thought as the bike guy started to follow me, I was being punished by God. But no, I thought, I read too many novels.

Cities can be scary but cool.