At this point I turned into what appeared to be a neighborhood of circa 1970's ranch homes, just west of the metro line. It was midday, and the place was basically deserted. In an effort to navigate my way to North Capitol Street, I found myself thwarted by various dead ends, but kept exploring as I continued to move north out of the District.At one street I noticed ahead of me a slothenly dressed African American man in his late 20's standing at the curb and bouncing an old basket ball. He had a baseball cap on his head, and a narly trenchcoat covered most of the rest of his attire. As I approached him he grabbed onto the basketball and held it until I was right about to pass him, at which point he bounced it directly in front of my truck. Given the fact that he seemed so out of place, and so focused on me, it didn't surprise me, and neither did I respond to it. I just ran the damn ball over! The height of my truck cleared it with no trouble, and it's age and lack of bounce kept it on the street surface.
In my rearview mirror, I saw the guy step into the street in my wake and give me an earnest shoulder shrug and half-hearted outstretched hands in a gesture that seem to say, "What the Hell?" And I thought, "What the Hell, indeed!"
Was I supposed to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting the ancient ball that HE tossed in front of me? I have no proof of his intentions, only the nagging intuition that he was trying to stop me for some nefarious purpose.
4 comments:
Yes! Nefarious purpose was my first guess. Glad you kept going.
Moments like this are always a little tricky in our PC-obsessed world. You think, am I stereo-typing? But two blocks later I passed a woman pushing a baby carriage and a man washing his car in his driveway, both black, and both felt completely natural and correct in that neighborhood. My intimate buddy for the past 4 years is a black man. My faithful movie buddy is also black. As are a large chunk of my neighbors. I think my familiarity and comfort with people of other racial backgrounds allows me to trust my inner voice without the baggage of racial guilt. God knows I have enough other hang-ups!
Randy!
It doesn't really matter what color this kid was. The actions would be odd no matter the ethnicity.
After all, why would he deliberately bounce the ball right in front of your truck?
Either he wanted you to stop (for whatever reason) or he was being a smart-ass and wanted to give you a hard time, figuring you'd not want to hit the basketball.
*shrugs shoulders*
-Dean
True, Dean. And the fact that he clearly wasn't a kid was odd, too. I teenager would be more likely to play "chicken" just because teenagers do stuff like that.
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