Adams Morgan, Washington, D.C.,
Midnight-ish.
It cost 35 cents to have me killed. At
least, that was the joke.
The homeless guy wanted money and my
buddy gave him some change. I didn't. Then things escalated.
The homeless man said my friend had "a
bigger heart than the rest of you combined." He called me
racist. He said I deserved to die. He'd killed before, in Nam, and
wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Especially a racist like me.
Around the third time he threatened to
kill me, a nearby bouncer appeared saying, "Jimmy, what are you
doing?" He flagged down a cop car and within seconds they were
running through traffic, guns out, yelling, "Drop the knife!"
Before I could move Jimmy was splayed across the hood of a car,
frisked, and cuffed.
The Assistant D.A. called
it assault with a deadly weapon. Jimmy was forced into a veterans
home.
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