Fabricated Evidence

NYC’s Washington Square Park could be best described as an indiscriminate people-circus anchored at the front-yard of New York University. A common stage for musicians and entertainers; student melting pot; haven for the homeless; host to petty nickel-n-dime drug deals; and even a dog-park – there’s always an interesting mix of people to watch.

Anyhow, one day while Sniping at the circus, I found myself confronted by a psychotic homeless man. He slowly approached me from the side as I was taking a photograph and began pelting water at me from a spouted drinking bottle. With no words exchanged yet – I’m looking at him like “what the F you think you doing” and he continues approaching with a teeth-grinding glare of rage in his eyes — still squirting the water bottle. As we came to face-to-face, there was no water left to squirt and he slammed the empty bottle to ground with all his might, then raised a fist to say: “YOU, why did you take my photo!?”

“I didn’t take your photo” I replied – in a matching teeth-grinding tone of anger.

He then made a couple fake-out moves, as if he intended to take a swing at me but never followed through. By this time I had already removed my camera from around my neck and was prepared to defend myself, although doubtful he would really attack.

But next he started digging deep in his pocket to reach for something. Guessing he was gonna pull out a knife, I reluctantly placed my camera on the ground next to me (thinking someone would probably snatch during the scuffle) – and geared myself up, fist-clenched, adrenaline-rushed and hand-eye coordinated to deliver a swift blow to his jaw.

To my surprise, all he pulled out was a wallet! Still a bit concerned he might have a razor-blade inside it, I hadn’t let my guard down yet. He fiddled with the wallet for a few seconds and then pulled out an old, wrinkly, folder-up piece of paper. He began to unfold it before me, and low and behold, it was an ancient photograph of himself, taken who knows when! While pointing to the photograph, he says to me: “YOUUUUU! You took this photo, you bastard!”

I couldn’t help but laugh in his face as I denied taking the photo, and decided to just walk away as he was clearly a mental case. He did begin to follow me for a few paces but having caused a bit of a scene, shortly thereafter a police officer approached and escorted him out of the park.

How’s that for a day at the circus?

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