this is your block on drugs

I was just coming back from going out with friends- we discovered a few of us happen to live within three blocks of eachother, and I walked home with a new comrade who just lives one block down from me. Halfway between my place and his, thirty yards before my place just after passing the square in front of the church, I hear footsteps behind me, shuffly ones. That doesn't surprise me initially, as my neighborhood is crazy busy until the bars close, it's a neighborhood very popular with the young folks.

But sadly, my lovely block, the one I profess to be the most picturesque in the east village with its stately brownstones, is also connected to St Marks Place, a cool historic church that has a public square that tends to attract people needing a place to sleep to its benches. So every once in a while my quiet street becomes a bit of a resting point for unusual characters. Really, I guess you could say that about any place in Manhattan.

Anyway, the shuffly steps quicken, and then all of a sudden someone grabs my arm. As I turn and look, there is the creepiest quiet, hissy "heey" that drips forth from this SUPER SCARY addicted-to-I-don't know-what-but-likely-just-about-everything creature. I would not described this individual as even a person, it was so sad and scary. Sallow-eyed, sores all over the mouth, thin lips and hunched over... she was like a creature out of one of Dante's circles of hell, or one of Ursula's screaming little shriveled worms in The Little Mermaid. Scared the living daylights out of me, I can't believe I didn't do anything but quicken my pace. The weird thing is that she kept following me as I fumbled for my keys... and did not find them. So I kept walking past my door... and so did she. I should have ducked in with the doorman next door, but was thinking I'd find them quickly... then I thought I'd duck in the late-night grocery, but it was already closed... so I ended up doing a full walk around the block, and it was only after getting halfway back around that I heard loud shrieking of "hey" a few times and no more shuffling. I crossed the trickle of a man peeing on the inside side of the sidewalk, turned the corner back around St Marks square with the few bench-sleepers, and made sure I had my key out well in advance the second time around.

I can say I did feel bad, like it was some Dickens-esque scene, me being like ew, don't touch my white coat, you scary underworld creature. I'm sure this woman just really needed help and was so incredibly out of it she couldn't have hurt me. Her tone seemed to convey that she thought I'd be her friend. But still... it was a scary sight. If that doesn't scare you into never doing drugs, I'm not sure what would.

Guess that's what you get for bragging about how safe and lovely and perfect your neighborhood is over late-night meat pies at Tuck Shop, you smug jerk.