I Stared Death In The Face

The day I stared Death in the Face, it wasn't very pretty. The day was actually very nice; sunny, about 72 degrees, fresh smell of autumn in the crisp air. I had to renew my city vehicle sticker so I drove to city hall. That city vehicle sticker...what is that all about?! Just another way The Man is keeping us down with more taxes... but that's another story.

City Hall...the nerve center of the city. The crown jewel of my great community; where freedom and justice is had by all. But the day I arrived, there was a disturbance outside the Halls of Justice. I just pulled up in my cool bullet-shaped hybrid when a car flew into the parking lot and screeched to a halt on the backside. A guy jumped out of the drivers side and tried to pull a female in his car, shouting, "Get in the car!! Get in the car!! Why you wanna do that and put me in jail?!"

I started to get out to see how I could help when the word "jail" stopped me in my tracks. JAIL?! Like in The Rock, The Big House, The House of Don't Drop the Soap in the Shower?! Thoughts flashed through my mind that this guy (Death) was an escaped convict who had crudely fashioned a shank from the prison metal shop, snuck it out by placing it in his posterior cavity, took it to his cell where he spent months carving a hole in the decaying prison walls. Finally he busted through to the other side and after the midnight watch, snaked through the steam pipe system, busted a hole in the old concrete sewage pipe and made his daring escape through the waste sludge of his fellow thugs, his hate ever increasing for revenge.

I knew I was about to see that infamous crude shank wrapped at one end with shreds of dirty underwear to make a handle, appear out of his jacket and slash the poor female to my front.

For some stupid reason, my feet began to involuntarily move towards the fray, into the jaws of death, like a stupid lamb innocently heading to the slaughter. Before I knew it I was staring Death himself right in his face...RIGHT IN HIS FACE. Okay, we were about 2 yards away from each other but I could see the hate in his eyes and smell the rage induced sweat from his Grim Reaper body.

Death halted his deathly actions to give me the look. You know, the steely eyed death look...up and down. I managed to mutter something about his actions only making things worse for his situation, which seems "negotiator cool" but it probably sounded more like the slurring sounds of the Attorney General at the Marriott before he collapsed to the floor recently.

After, what seemed like an hour, Death finally turned away, got in his death-mobile and took off with his two other death henchmen who were riding in the back of the vehicle.

I'd like to take credit for stopping a public flaying and blood bath, but I think it was the gathering crowd behind me that actually deterred the potentially ugly event.

As I reflect on the events of that day, all I can think of is...I need to check into getting a concealed gun permit because there were no police around...and this was at City Hall!