The Time I Got Punched By A Homeless Guy

May 25, 2011

Try as I might, I always seem to have run-ins with the homeless people around my building.

There’s the guy who still loves to call me Thunder Thighs.

There’s the guy who I walk by everyday who is holding a sign that says “I Need Alcohol or a Redhead”.

(Talk about awkward. I always kind of speed walk past him and pretend to look the other way…as if me doing this will cover up the fact that I am one of his “needs” written on his piece of cardboard.)

And then there’s the one who punched me.

No, really. He punched me.

It was about 4:30 pm on a nice, sunny day.

He was hiding in a doorway, quite obviously calculating his attack on some poor, unsuspecting person.

I was happily on my way to the T after work.

I remember I was in a particularly good mood that day– smiling and walking with an extra spring in my step.

(Although, that was probably my first mistake– seeing someone with a huge, annoying smile on their face can definitely make you want to punch them.)

Anyway, as I trotted on by, he jumped out, made a fist, wound up– and punched me (hard!) on the shoulder.

Then he turned around and walked away.

At first, I was shocked. I mean, what the hell did I do to him?

And then I didn’t really know what to do.

Do I go after him? Do I keep walking?

Do I continue to stand on the sidewalk, holding my arm like a gimp, staring after him in disbelief?

My first instinct told me to see what others around me were doing.

So I did one of those weird, quick side-to-side head swivels to see if anyone else had seen.

(You know the head swivel I’m talking about , right? Like when you trip over absolutely nothing and are wondering if anyone else saw it too, but don’t want to make it seem too obvious that you’re looking around, so you do a kind of jerky, shifty-eyed glance to your left and right? Yeah– it was one of those.)

There was one lady that looked like she was giving me a funny look. But I couldn’t tell if it was out of concern, compassion, or if she was just blind or something.

My thunder thighs homeless guy was there, but he was too busy panhandling and harassing others to pay me much attention.

(Any other day, and this would have delighted me. But damn it– I just got punched. Pay attention to me!)

It was like nobody had seen the abuse I had just endured. I was scared and alone in the middle of a sidewalk with my poor arm hanging, limp and useless, at my side, and nobody cared.*

(*the couple months that have passed since this incident may have led to some slight exaggerating on my part.)

In the end, I went into CVS for a few minutes.

I have no idea why I did that.

I didn’t need anything at CVS.

I guess I felt like I had to take cover in case The Puncher came thundering back to rain more blows onto my poor, battered body.

Once I had stood in Aisle 3 for a few minutes, I began to feel stupid. So, I left and continued on my way home.

Same person as before, just with a nice new bruise on my right shoulder.

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3 Responses to “The Time I Got Punched By A Homeless Guy”

  1. Brotha Says:

    I suggest buying a nice can of pepper spray so if this guy ever comes round again he can get his comeuppance!

  2. Lilee Says:

    I’m sorry to laugh at your injury but I’m seriously cracking up. I’m subscribing to your blog. Right…no, not yet. So did you ever see him again? Why do you live near so many homeless people? You should consider moving. I’m sure you have, you don’t need my advice. Ok…subscribing…NOW.

  3. Mom Says:

    Ohhhh Lindsay You know that kind of stuff scares me to death!!!


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