Bob has a big square head and a wide, box-like build, standing about 5' 10" and 230 pounds. He seems to be about 40 and uses a handicapped scooter to get around. Unlike the morbidly obese men of middle years that normally slouch along on these creaking carts, behaving like shit-lord princes, Bob is polite, quiet, shops efficiently and, dressed like a recluse in old faded jeans and worn flannel shirt, seems to prefer late night shopping hours.

This morning Bon was not looking so good. there was a subsiding set of knots on the top of his head, seen clearly through his thinning hair.

His forehead was scuffed from the tow of a sneaker, with a jagged cut rising from his eye brow to his hairline.

It appears he was stomped by an a attacker that was standing over him with his base foot above his head, by the angle of the shoe prints. His left eye has a tread-imprinted, heel print, forming a flat-bottomed, crescent shaped-bruise below the eye, which is filled with blood, as if the edge of the sneaker heel dug into the eye along the lower orbit.

The injuries appear two days old.

Bob shops quietly, efficiently and wheels out into the night in frowning silence.