on a re-post: that one time a homeless person tried to murder me...

This is a re-post because I'm on vacation and I'm too busy snuggling with my nephew, eating too much food, being really excited about seeing New Moon with my sister (don't hate), texting my husband more than necessary because I miss him, and rediscovering a passion for World of Warcraft with my brother-in-law (again, don't hate). In any case, this story is totally ridiculous and is pretty much the reason that I'm borderline afraid of homeless people sometimes. It was originally posted on October 11, 2007:

Last night I get home from work, finally find a parking spot. (A block away, but hey, it's a spot.) I gather all my stuff and start the walk home.

I notice a homeless woman across the street, and have one of those WWJD moments. I have this fruit tray that was given to me at work (extra catering) and I didn't really need it, per se, and knew I'd go to bed feeling awfully guilty if I didn't at least offer it to this homeless woman who probably hasn't had fresh fruit in the last seventeen years or so. I couldn't just pass her like she was nothing.

I cross the street and as I near her and her rickety shopping cart, she turns towards me and seems to acknowledge my presence. As I get closer, I say a quick, "Hello..." and then go to offer her the tray. All of a sudden, she screams, "PRISONER!"

I think I pee a little, and take a step back, holding dearly to my purse and (apparently unwanted) fruit tray.

She continues to scream and point at me, yelling out "PRI-SON-ERRRR!" and some other incoherent babbling. At this point, I am thinking, "Lord have mercy. This crazy biscuit is going to murder me. She is going to murder me, and eat me for breakfast tomorrow. And nobody will have any idea what happened to me." I was still too stunned at her reaction to move away, but I soon begin to awkwardly back away and start the walk to my apartment. I actually wanted to run for my dear life, as I've never had anyone yell at me like that, let alone some crazy homeless woman who seemed to want the entire county aware of the fact that I was, indeed, some sort of prisoner. (That's right, a prisoner wearing what looks like a flight attendants outfit, gingerly carrying a demon fruit tray. Okay.)

I made it to my apartment, all the while listening to this woman who wouldn't stop yelling behind me, and wondering if she was going to run me down with her shopping cart. To say I was freaked out is an understatement.

I woke up Jay when I got home, and told him what happened.

me: "I almost was murdered by a homeless woman."
Jay: "What?"
me: "I offered her a fruit tray, and then she screamed at me that I was a PRISONER."
Jay: "Did she have a dog?"
me: (um, miss the point much lately?) "What? No. I mean, I didn't see one."
Jay: "Hmm. Weird."

Well, if it had happened to him, I'm sure he would have been a bit more intense about it. And, anyway, now I have an even better reason for telling him I don't want to walk to my car alone at night when I have to park a block away. Seriously.

So, yeah. That's my story. (She did miss out on a good fruit tray, though. Yum.)