I strolled to my neighborhood grocer for a
Pack of cigarettes, a hunk of ginger, fresh scall i ons and whatever else I might not resist buying. I pulled a cart from the bascart corral and headed into the shopping arena, where I passed a young man who was partially paralyzed on one side of his body.
He looked s a d.
Just as I broke off a piece of ginger, I heard a commotion and raised voices; one I recognized as the sad young man's voice. I heard him say "S T R O K E" and "Cannabis." I pushed my empty cart aside and walked toward the sounds, but I was already TOO LATE because his accusers; three supervisory employees, had already thrown their matches into the flames of frustration and he EXPLODED.
I wanted to touch his arm and talk in a gentle voice, but I was too late and one of the workers dialed 9........1........1... and I said, "Don't call 911." And the YESS Man of the group looked at me with an expression of horror befitting of someone who still thinks you can call the Police all WILLY NILLY when someone steals a few bites of food, BUT YOU CANNOT CALL THE POLICE ALL WILLY NILLY ANYMORE when someone steals a few bites of food or pees on the sidewalk or you think they're acting a little weird. You cannot call the police because they might kill the sad, the frustrated, the hungry man- and he has a disability- maybe more than one- and I bet he doesn't have enough to eat. And when you call the police all willy nilly, I can feel the tears of the Mother's of James Chasse Jr and Kendra Jackson and so many others and it's just a few bites of food and your bosses at the grocery store give all kinds of money to keep your wages as low as possible, so, you really gotta rethink going to bat for them in these instances: P L E A S E.
If you want order, go face some shelves instead. When we don't take care of our most vulnerable citizens, we should expect to see these scenes play out, especially in FOOD STORES, don't ya think? Maybe your bosses should train you in conflict resolution and non-violence, since hungry people are desirous of food stuffs, with or without coin.
I stepped outside as he fled and silently and spiritually cheered him on, as he climbed aboard the Streetcar.
I felt relieved, but then as I walked home, I wondered if they might track him down on the Streetcar. I keep crying now. Can't we make America Human Again?