You may remember, about a year or so ago, I had to ward off an evil wife-beater with my trusty Ralph Kiner Hall of Fame bat (kind of). You can relive that experience here. Well, there was no bat involved this time, and my role was minimal, but I do have another TRUE STORY OF BUFFALO, NY!
So, I’m sitting on my couch and thoroughly enjoying the newest episode of Dirty Jobs, entitled “Monkey Caretaker,” when–what do I hear?–the screeching of tires followed by a loud WHAM! Having borne witness to three prior car accidents at the intersection outside my apartment, I knew this would be the fourth right away, just by the sound of it. I jumped to my feet, slapped on my sandals and hurried outside in time to see a large, black man yelling at a young, scrawny kid in a baseball cap at the top of his lungs. Such delightful barbs as “god damn it, man!” and “look at this shit!” filled the night air as my neighbors began to file out of their homes and ogle the scene.