Dual
RIP Karl 1991-2014
My amigo and I were sitting on a bridge near the Keramikos in Athens and this filthy man comes over and sits down next to us. He's carrying a bottle of Amstel, his teeth are terrible, his arms are covered in scabs, there's some weird white fungus shit growing on the sides of his lips. Broken English starts pouring forth. Grasping the Amstel bottle, he hits his head. A dull thump is audible. Laughter. He starts telling us about himself. Says his name is Leo; he's 35 and has a 17 year old son named Giorgios. He was in prison in Thessalonika from 1999 to 2006; the reason isn't clear. It involves a woman, a disco, and a gun. Praise god that he's free now! He prostrates himself before the heavens. As he's talking about the mafia, buying drugs, etc, he occasionally wants to see our cameras, and we take pictures of ourselves with him. This guy's creeping me out. There's this sensation I ofttimes get where I feel as if I can see the future, and now my thoughts raced. I'm in the present right now, I think. This hasn't happened yet; I can stop this. Problem: I don't know how. Prescient trap: one future, no escape. Leo keeps taking the cameras and giving them back, grabbing his bottle and making feints directed towards my friend's head. Every time he moves I'm afraid; is this the time? I suspected at the time that he was trying to desensitise us to sudden, violent movements, and also to giving him things. Didn't work. Eventually he's holding my friend's camera, asking for 5 Euro, "for my house," but when he takes out his wallet, the man grabs for it. Amigo won't let go, and Leo punches him in the face. Perhaps the desensitivation worked; he doesn't flinch. Instinct takes over; I stand up and start quickly walking down the bridge. My friend yells for help, I run back, see the fucker biting his hand, and kickbox the filthy piece of shit in his face. He looks up and glares at me with abject hatred; I run down the bridge again. Halfway down I gather my nerves and sprint back; my friend has managed to recover his camera and wallet; the hobo is making his escape, apparently having been able to get ahold of a 50 Euro note from my friend's wallet.
