This morning on the DART I experienced the first scene that made me actually question my safety. If I am being 100 % honest, I think the situation could have been handled differently, but things got way out of hand.
After a 15 day migraine combined with a raging kidney infection and temps over 103, I am finally feeling back to myself. My head isn’t hurting, no fever, I am ready to face the world again! It was a rough couple of weeks, and an even rougher weekend, but I am so thankful to be on this side of getting better. I had a pretty sleepless night filled with insomnia and panic attacks for absolutely no reason. They started around 9 pm and went on and off until about 2:30 am.
I got up shockingly on time and even managed to be in time to make it to the gas station. The TRE went without any problems, and I was feeling pretty relaxed when I boarded an unusually crowded DART. I remembered that the train is always filled with homeless people seeking a warm place to sleep in peace on cold mornings. I slid past fare enforcement and took my usual spot. Fare enforcement finishes the citation he was writing and then goes to the next car. He begins the conversation with an aggressive tone, I am sure he has his reasons, maybe he has history with this person, maybe it’s not the first time he told him that he can’t take up 3 seats, maybe he has just been talked to really bad all morning. Regardless, he approached the guy and told him to move his feet off of the seat, and that he couldn’t take up 3 seats in a crowded DART train. Needless to say, the homeless guy did not grab his stuff and say, “Oh I am sorry, I didn’t realize.”
In fact the next 15 minutes of my life were very educational. I had never heard those particular word combinations. I think my favorite part was when he told the officer, “you work for me, I pay your taxes.” (being homeless and jobless kind of means that is not how that is happening.” Actually though (I have video way too vulgar to post) I cracked up when in the middle of screaming obscenities and horrifically detailed threats against his life, right after “I’m from the boot, N’Orleans… we’re real thugs.” He stopped to take 3 puffs of his inhaler before continuing… way to thug it up baby. That was totally BA.