After having one of the busiest days in recent memory, I was chilling with the kids in our living room when I heard a bloodcurdling scream from outside the front of our house. By the time I hit the floodlight in the driveway, there was another — the kind you hear when someone’s getting attacked. We peeked through the curtains to see a mid 90’s pickup stopped in the street directly in front of our house. We couldn’t see though the truck’s windows, but saw people struggling on the far side of it, on the bank of the pond. Thinking that someone was about to get dumped, I rushed over to help, shirtless, with an ASP baton in my front pocket.
It turned out to be a married couple in their forties on the verge of throwing blows, but they both sort of calmed down to just yelling at each other after I asked them what was happening. They seemed to be arguing about money or something. The guy was gritting his teeth and kind of cocking back his arm, but gained control of himself as his wife continued with hysterics… I had memorized the license plate and was giving them space the whole time, just kind of watching from twenty feet or so. I noticed my next door neighbor watching from his balcony and the old man living behind us watching from the cover of our big Indian Jasmine tree… I knew I had witnesses, so that was cool. The wife was asking me to help, but I wasn’t going to get more involved at that point — there was no reason to step in their shit. Eventually, she pulled the keys from the ignition, chucked them in the thick vegetation surrounding the pond, and walked off. The husband was left there in the thick air, sulking and no doubt embarrassed about what had happened. He started pushing his truck to the side of the road, but I just wanted him the fuck outta there. Nam got a flashlight from the house so he could find his keys. He eventually found them and took off after hanging the flashlight over the side mirror of my motorcycle in the driveway and saying thanks.
Damn that was crazy.