Friday, March 30, 2012
Revenge is a Dish Best Served to the Proper Person
Late one evening a few years ago, when I was younger and foolish, I was walking home from a buddy's house after spending most of the day helping him fix his car. I was taking a shortcut along the train tracks running through a seedier section, which isn't saying much, of my small town. I was walking along the loose rocks next to the rails, when I hear voices from the backyard of a nearby house. There are a lot of trees and greenery in the back of all these houses, probably to block the sight of the train tracks, so I couldn't see anyone, but I distinctly heard a few voices and it sounded like they were just joking around with each other. No big deal. As I get closer to the voices, I hear one person say "Get the gun," followed by the sound of someone running, and then a screen-door slamming. It's very dark out, and I haven't been making much noise, so I have a hard time believing that whoever these people are that they are "getting the gun" for me. However, though I didn't think I was in any immediate danger, when you hear someone say "get the gun," you begin to consider the pressing matter of self preservation.