willhines.net

Tonight at around 12:20am, one of the customers of Pete’s Candy Store, the bar across the street from my house, stumbled out onto the sidewalk and started screaming “Ronald Reagan!” at the top of his lungs. He also gleefully kicked a garbage can into Lorimer St and then laughed enthusiastically. I think this was in reaction to someone — my downstairs neighbor, a very polite art director — leaning out a window and telling him to shut up. He had been drunk-talking (screaming) a story with his friends in front of the bar for some time.

I get disproportionately irritated with the loud drunk people in front of Pete’s. Their complete disregard that anyone might be bothered is amazing — sort of like the obliviousness of people who take one step onto a subway car and then stop moving, not even considering that there might be an entire crowd of people behind them who also want to board the car.

This guy was different than the usual Pete’s patron. Pete’s is a cool place, and most of the patrons are hipsters, or recent hipsters and are too tired from being emaciated and from smoking to really put up a loud fuss. This guy looked like an ex-Marine — big, beefy, close-cropped hair, loud guffaws — and looked like he’d be incredibly happy for the chance to get into a fight with anyone.

My question, and I’m asking the hooligans out there in particular: could I get away with hurling water balloons at people like him from my window? I’m a decent shot, and even if I was close — it might be fun to see them wake up with the realization that someone is bothered by them. And for the ex-Marine, it’d thrill me to the center of my bones to see him take a splash of cold water in the face and have to take it out on the garbage can.

As it was, he just called my neighbor in order: a cunt, a bitch and Ronald Reagan — before being driven off by his giggling friend.