The Time I Got Attacked by a Homeless Man

I put this in a blog way a while back as a throwaway, but I decided that it needed its own stage. A few things you should know before I get into this:

  • On any given night, there are usually a few homeless people on my campus because, more often than not, one of the students will buy them a pizza. 
  • I am at my nicest when I’ve been drinking. I assume that everyone wants to be my friend, and I will talk to anyone that will listen.
  • I am at my dumbest when I’ve been drinking. I assume that everyone wants to be my friend, and I will talk to anyone that will listen.

So, with that in mind, let’s dive in here. It was, if I remember correctly, the Thursday going into “Halloweekend.” I was fucking rinsed, and I was also pretty upset because not one of my four roommates wanted to walk to McDonald’s. Luckily, one of my other friends was willing to babysit me. 

We’re walking down the street for my twenty McNuggets and large fry, when I saw what I thought was a random guy on the street calling out to me. Despite the very clear instructions my friend had given me before she agreed to go with me which were, “Tim, you’re not allowed to talk to any strangers,” I yelled out, “What’s good, G?” Much to my surprise he was not someone looking for a new friend. He was, in fact, a homeless man who had just finished fighting another homeless man. You know that scene in Elf where he tries to give the raccoon a hug and gets viciously attacked by it instead? Our interaction went something like that. 

In a matter of seconds, I went from thinking I was about to make a new friend to being pressed up against a pole on the street with some guy’s forearm across my neck. As I stared into his very angry eyes and watched the blood drip from his mouth (I assume the blood was because of the fight he was in), I contemplated what I would do next. Just as I settled on try and fight back in a crazy enough fashion that I wouldn’t end up in the ER, the other fucking homeless guy pulls him off me. Free again, all I had on my mind were those delicious nugs, and it was probably because of that tunnel vision that I did not see the homeless dude’s belongings sitting on the side of the road. I proceeded to step right on top of all of them. I believe the response I got to that was something along these lines: “Ayo, watch the fuck out you pussy *word I cannot say or write*.” Fortunately, that other homeless dude had my back and kept me from being murdered. 

I’m in and out of the McDonald’s thanks to the ever-trustworthy mobile order, and against the protests of the poor friend I dragged along with me, I said that we did, in fact, have to walk back past the guy on the way home. A police car had arrived and there was a cop talking to the two homeless guys and one standing by the car. I had the bright idea to tell the cop standing by the car in the loudest voice possible, “THAT GUY ASSAULTED ME!” which only caused my attacker to call me several more slurs that I cannot type out here, but let me just say: I was impressed with how fluently he was stringing those bad boys together. 

We then walked by the burger restaurant that, outside of which, the pole that I had been pressed up against stood. Inside the little entrance were all of the employees, and one girl was yelling out to me through the window. She was asking me with the fear of God in her eyes if we needed to come in to get to safety. Here’s where my story really takes a turn for the worse: I said no – and she was super fucking hot! Absolute botch job. I had the whole getting attacked/possible injury sympathy card I could have played for a little bit of attention. Sure, I probably would’ve fucked it up in some way, but god dammit. I didn’t even give myself a chance, and now it’s like I got attacked by a homeless man for nothing.

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Written by TFM

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