Once again, I have become a magnet for the crazy.
On Tuesday, my friend Phil and I were trying to think of somewhere to grab food after swimming. While we were doing that, I remembered I didn't have any cash on me, so we headed to the Bank of Ireland ATMs on Westmoreland Street.
On the left ATM, I felt that there was something fishy about it. I could see some loose connectors behind one of the clear plastic panels, and the face-plate seemed a bit raised. We walked over to the ATM on the right, and I noticed that the face-plate there was a different colour and shape. We walked back to the first ATM, and I told the two girls who were just about to use it that I suspected it had been tampered with. I started to take down the number from the ATM on my phone.
A homeless man with a crutch walked up to us and got extremely close; he was about two feet from us. Because of how he was positioned, he had effectively trapped us between him and the wall. He leaned in and croaked: “D’ya have any change?”
I’m not a huge fan of people trying to intimidate me, so I told him “No, sorry” and tried to walk off. In disbelief, he shouted back: “D’ya not have any money for me leg?”
He pulled up his left trouser leg to reveal a perfectly rectangular open wound on his lower shin. It was clearly infected; yellow and so horrible to look at it even defeated my strong stomach. I felt like getting sick.
To those reading this who are from the States, I should point out that our health care system means he could just go to the hospital and have it treated, for free.
I’m a fan of neither physical intimidation or being shown open, infected wounds, so both Phil and I said sorry and tried to slip by him. He took offense at this and shouted in my ear: “Ah gerh away ourra dah! Go home an’ suck yer da’s cock!”
As we walked away, I dialed the number from the ATM to report its suspicious appearance. The crazy guy must have seen this as, while the phone dialed, he began shouting after me: “Gerh away ya bollox, ya fuckin’ rah!”
What a pleasant chap.
We saw a woman in here fifties or sixties coming towards us, shouting something I couldn’t quite make out. As we got closer, I realised what it was. Over and over, she was shouting “God wasn’t a bastard! People are bastards! God was never a bastard!”
We got closer and she looked at us, and changed her words to “God was born in a stable! With animals!”
I tell you, they are after me. Hey, at least the stable lady wasn’t trying to threatening me. That’s a fairly major improvement.
Dave posted this entry at 10:55 PM on June 18, 2006. This entry was posted in the category WTF .