A Little Late-Night Ugliness

We’ve been sleeping with the window open lately because it’s been cool at night, so it’s comfortable. The problem is that our street seems to get a fair amount of foot-traffic, including loudmouthed drunks heading home from who knows where on weeknights (on the weekend, I am a loudmouthed drunk, so I sleep soundly through any commotion).

Last night was a little different though. I woke up because there were people outside talking loudly and aggressively just in time to hear this vile tidbit of racist nastiness:

“We don’t need no coons around here, ya fuckin nigger”.

Right away my adrenaline started going, because I expected the next thing I’d hear would be violence and I’d have to call the cops. I considered looking outside, but I was in that night-time sleepy mode where even a bladder on the verge of exploding is not enough to make you get out of bed.

But I didn’t hear anything more except the voices fading into the distance. I don’t think whoever this comment was directed to responded, which is probably a good thing for them in terms of safety.

I had trouble falling back asleep because I was angry. These travelling groups of punks are a scourge in this city. Like packs of hyenas they bark and snarl when they’re with each other, but when they’re by themselves they skulk by without a peep.

The worst part is there’s so little you can do. If you’re black and they verbally assault you, you better just keep on walking because if you so much say a word, you’re gonna get hurt, and by the time the cops get there they’ll be long gone. If you’re indoors and hear something like I did, you better keep quiet too, because while they might retreat if you threaten to call the police, they will surely be back to destroy your property. Those who do get assaulted (like me and other people I know, including one person recently who is in danger of losing an eye due to an unprovoked assault by a carload of jackasses) often don’t even bother reporting it, because it’s not taken especially seriously by police unless it causes serious injury or death.

So abuse goes by unconfronted and justice remains undone. Perhaps this is one of the costs of living in a free society – you can’t do anything to stop these people from associating with one another, from roaming around late at night looking for opportunities to do harm, from casting about racial slurs in the hopes they’ll reel in someone brave or foolish enough to confront them.

In the end, they do get what they deserve. Eventually, if they manage to stay out of prison or avoid messing with the wrong person, they will find themselves old, weak, jobless, depressed, unfulfilled, drug- or alcohol-addicted. Life will unravel as a dreary landscape of low-rent apartments, low-paying jobs or lower-paying welfare. The sexy tight-jean wearing honeys who look up to their violent escapades will fatten and take to wearing jogging pants, puffing two packs a day and swearing at them for being so utterly useless. Drunk enough to overcome their revulsion with each other one night, they’ll screw, conceive and produce a dirty-diapered child who reminds each of them of the other’s faults, which to them will be enough of an excuse to treat the child poorly, or even abuse it.

And so the cycle begins again.

Funny how anger can turn into pity and even compassion…