Punchout at the Dunkin' Donuts

My life is so weird. I can't make this shit up.

So I'm using a cane (I hurt my knee and no, it wasn't an on-the-job injury, pigs), and I'm jonesing for a delicious coconut iced coffee from Dunkin' Donuts. 'Tis spring, you know, which is the start of iced coffee season across New England. As I hobble to the store door, there is this guy just standing in the doorway. He kindly opened the door for me, and I thanked him, thinking "what a nice fellow, holding the door for a temporary cripple like me." I'm like that.

Anyway, as I stand in line, I hear a man talking and then a shout and some running sounds. I turn around, and some poor guy was standing there holding his face -- he happened to be of Indian descent. Apparently, the door-holding dude had said something racist to the Indian guy, who then said something back, and door dude didn't take kindly to it. WHAMMO He punched the poor Indian guy in the face! Then the coward ran away. It happened about six feet from where I was standing -- and I MISSED THE PUNCHOUT! Dammit. This was about as close to a real streetfight as I'm ever going to get, and I missed it.

I should wear one of those helmets that cyclists use with the rear-view mirrors attached. It would go so well with my cane. Then they forgot to put Sweet n' Low in my coffee. Bastards.