Friday, November 6, 2009

Limited vocab

Last night it was warm, so we slept with our window open. I enjoyed my sleep until around 2am a man with a very limited vocabulary began yelling. He said maybe a dozen different words, repeating them over the course of 30 minutes. His favorite words began with an F and a Y. There was something about a mother too...

At first I was irritated that he had interrupted my sleep. Then I was a bit frightened that maybe he would hurt someone. Then I began to feel sorry for him. He was obviously hurting. He yelled several times, "Why don't you just kill me?" He was in pain, emotional pain. And he was likely inebriated. His voice cracked, quivered. And I wanted to yell out of my window, "It's okay buddy. You're going to be alright."

But then I heard glass breaking and silence. TC said the police came and got the man.

I seriously debated calling the police. I rehearsed what I might say in my mind. But I had no idea where he was. I couldn't see him, I could only hear him. And because of the echo-y courtyard he could have been anywhere really. (Would you have called the Fuzz?)

That was a weird 30 minutes of my life. It almost seems like I dreamed it. But the fatigue that comes from interrupted sleep tells me otherwise.

On a different note, here are the shoes of the day:

These are BCBG Grido in purple suede. I LOVE these shoes (so much so that you've already seen them on the blog).


  1. There's a homeless guy that frequents our ward and he's likely schizophrenic, usually inebriated, and also has a limited vocabulary. One Sunday he was reading the scriptures in the lobby and kept repeating, "Son of a B, Son of a B, Son of a B". But he said the whole word. And I realized, wow, I don't remember ever seeing that verse! That's an exciting one!

  2. I've never seen that verse either. Might have made early morning seminary a little more interesting. Yikes.

  3. Very interesting situation. Maybe the poor man just needed some new shoes. A good pair of shoes can change your life, you know... just look what a pair of shoes did for Cinderella. (That was the moral of the story, wasn't it?)


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