The Fine Line between Stupid and Brave

Perhaps not such a fine line. I don't know.

So.....Yesterday was quite a day in the land of urban gardening. I got a call saying there was a broken pipe in the garden. So I went to go fix it. Convincing myself that I am a plumber, (see related cleavage story). I headed south to the Danny Woo Community Garden.

Oh...the long and the short of it is I get to the garden, there is a mountain of trash near the entrance that I can't live another minute with and start cleaning up, the garden is occupied not with gardeners but with at least a half dozen stoned cretins, and then Jimmy, my very own 74 year old bigoted garden dweller showed up to ask for some help finding a place to live. A task I am dedicated to. For his sake or mine?

I called the office and Uncle Bob answered. He is the ex. director. I say, "I have a garden full of drug addicts, a broken pipe, a homeless man I need to find dwelling for, and a mountain of garbage. I need help and what is the address of the Housing Alliance??" He gave me the address. He later sent Tom up, for when I returned from escorting Jimmy to learn what hoops we needed to leap through, the mountain of garbage was gone and we were down to just 2 small gangs. Bless his heart.

All this put me in a good mood, the progress that was made in two hours with the major tasks facing me.

Things turned. Hours later, near dusk, I was waiting for the PVC glue to dry on the new pipe I laid, I walked down from the truck parked near the water main. There were 4 people near the shed. I asked what they were up to. And said, "Well, I am asking because a lot of folks have been littering, smoking crack and using this garden as a bathroom." One fellow said, "We aren't doing any of that. Don't worry."

I went to pick up my tools and returned to the shed 3 minutes later. The same man was pissing on the deck of the shed.

I lost it. I yelled to get the hell out of the garden. His companions scattered to the wind. He turned around and called me an unpleasant but common name for a canine. I told him again to leave, and he said he was going to hurt me.

We stood there, nose to nose, because he was on a step above me. He was, oh...5'11" ish, big, African American. I asked if he was threatening me. He said, "Yes." I took out my cell phone and called 911. I was disconnected mid call, but I pretended I was not disconnected and continued to describe the person whose removal I was requesting. I am excluding much of the heated dialog and unpleasant language.

He left.

I calmed down. Then realized I was afraid to walk up those same stairs he exited from to get to my truck. Then I realized what a stupid, stupid woman I could be.