Bum-Sike Pay Back

I am typically pretty nice to bums.  That being said, one night after an all day beer festival in San Francisco, a buddy (Who I will call N for anonymity’s sake) and I peel off from our pack of wild hyena buddies around 11pm and hop in a cab back to BART.   We pop in 7 Eleven on Market and from the moment I stepped out of the cab all the way until I went in the door, this one particularly aggressive bum was haggling the shit out of me.  My buddy and I go inside, both recognizing the fact that the bum needed to settle.  The minute I pop open the door to leave, the same dirty bum started freaking out over how much he wanted the change I had in my hand.  Fed up, I grab my change and hold my hand out over his cup and his face lit up like he just hit the lottery.  At the last second, I snapped my hand back and gave him a loud…”Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikkkeee”.  My buddy and I turn quickly, laugh our asses off and head towards the BART station without a second thought.  A few minutes later, I hear some yelling noises and the bum is sprinting down the street towards us.  He stops 15 feet away, and while still yelling some demonic shit, he proceeds to Randy Johnson some sort of metal plate directly at my head.  I tried to pull out my Matrix move to dodge it, but I had been drinking brons all day, so the disc smoked me on the side of my head.

 I then proceeded to ram my fist through his abdomen (Blog reader sike).  I actually was a bit freaked out, put my tail between my legs, and sprinted down the stairs and got on BART.  Moral of the story, if you are ever positioned in a perfect bum-sike situation, be prepared for some payback.  If I saw that bum again I’d shake his hand and/or rifle the nearest object in sight at his face.  Late