Acid Heroes

August 22, 2009

2002_10_10 The Third Ace Backwords Report

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Hello again, and welcome to the third Ace Backwords Report. So far, according to our email survey, we’ve already had up to one hits on this site already! So join in on the fun.

Nothing much of interest happened to me today, aside from one odd incidence at the Bancroft bus stop. This respectable-looking little, old lady is standing there yelling: “HELP ME! HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME!” I looked around to see if I could get away with walking away un-noticed. Because face it, on these city streets, you’re CONSTANTLY being hit on by people who need your help. Or want your help. Many of whom are fukking bums who want you to wipe their asses for them because they don’t want to do it themselves. So one’s Good Samaritan impulse tends to get worn down very quickly by the attrition of city living. And this is doubly true when you’re also part of “the street scene”, for you’re veritably surrounded by the helpless and the hapless and the tragic. As well as endless predators and sharks. You come to instantly recognize that predator sheen in their eyes just from one quick glance, before they even open their mouths and appeal to you for your money, your resources, your assistance and/or your soul.
But geez, it was a little old lady and she was hunched over her cane and she had two deformed legs. So I said:
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” in my best Jimmy Stewart accent.
“I need help walking to that bus stop a half a block down the street. Let me lean against your arm.”
“Okay,” I said, holding out my arm.
“No, not like THAT!” she whined. “Like THIS!”
“Oh, okay.”
She grabbed hold of my arm and we started inching down the street.”
Then she started yelling at me: “NOT SO FAST! NOT SO FAST! I CAN’T MOVE THAT FAST!” like I was the biggest idiot of all time. Her whole demeanor was that of a sneering queen who just can’t find good servants nowadays. This nice, sweet-looking little ole lady. I had to check my impulse to pull away from her and watch her topple over like a bowling pin into the gutter. But that would be wrong. I think.
She continued with her complaints and harangues and whining as we inched down the street . Now, I’m pretty close to being a bitter old crank myself, and I’m only 46. So I’m sorta sympathetic to this poor old biddy with bad legs, in pain, stuck in this world o’zhit she never made, surrounded by idiots — me — who don’t even know how to walk her down the block correctly, and etc. etc. But her act was seriously wearing thin from my perspective. Finally we make the bus stop.
“How far is it to Dana?” she whined.
“I think that’s about a block and a half away,” I said, not wanting to encourage the idea that I would walk her any further.
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” I said. “Well, I gotta get going. Good luck.”
“No! Stay with me until the bus comes!”
“No, I gotta go. So long.” I was sort of amused by this creature as a character study, but not amused enough to take further abuse. So I left her there, no “thank you” from her part, of course. Just one more bitter old fukk. And I guess you just expect more in the way of manners and maturity from older people. But that’s really not the case, is it? Some people manage to live 60, 70 years and learn nothing. In fact, that get more twisted out of shape as they get older. In fact, I’ve seen more than my share of “childish” behavior from so-called adults than I’ve ever seen from children, so I’m not even sure that’s the right word to describe it.

I’m not sure what it all means; what the message was. I suppose I could project some moral onto it. but one thing seems to be for sure: This world of ours seems to be filled with angry, bitter, hate-filled people. More of them every day. And I’m often one of them. Help!!


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