“I was on the way to a call and stopped into a gas station just long enough to put a gallon into the tank so I wouldn’t run out of gas.

There is a man just standing there, next to a car, starring at me. “I say, can I help you.”

He says, “I need a jump.”

I said, “Look, I’m going on a call—I’m in my scrubs—and I’ll be back by here in an hour. If you haven’t gotten help by then I’ll stop and see what I can do.”

I precede to gas up and this guy comes up—a non-descript redneck type—and stands in front of my hood, starring at me. I say, “Is there something else I can help you with?”

“I need a jump.”

“I comprehended that the first time and my statement of intent and offer of help stand.”

I am done gassing up and step up to the door of my truck and he’s standing in front of it! I said, “Is there something else I can do for you?”

He says, “I don’t know, can you?”

His behavior was abnormal and passive aggressive in a very irritating fashion. I said, “Look, pal, we can go easy or go hard.”

I held up my hand and counted down with my fingers, “You’ve got five seconds to end this or I will, one, two, three, four,” and the jerk steps aside.

I get in and he returns to stand very close to the door facing me, just staring. I rolled down the window and said, “I’m pulling off. If your feet are under my wheel, fuck you!”

I pulled off, aware once again that I am not permitted by the laws of our nation to defend myself with even minimal force without being sued. Christ, I took out one of those outlaw bikers that was banging on my truck window and got sued over that—sued by a criminal for God’s sake! I’m so far into the combat game that there is no question that I’m prevailing against any criminal that starts something. The guy with a knife and his friends on Broadway, no problem. But if I so much harm a hair on the head of one of these fuck nuggets I’ve got the sharks in suits after me. I have to keep a lawyer on retainer just to deal with suits from assholes that run me off the road or try and rob me.

Big Ron's Baltimore: A Working Man's View of Urban Blight