On Father’s Day last year I was coming home from a hike around 18:00ish. About two blocks away from my house I see a couple embracing. As I get closer I see that’s not the case.
The woman is crying and obviously in distress. He’s got her in a bear hug and she says “Please, Sean stop it. You’re hurting me. Let me go.”
The woman is crying and obviously in distress. He’s got her in a bear hug and she says “Please, Sean stop it. You’re hurting me. Let me go.”
I stop and look right at them. He tells me:
“You’d better keep walking. I can either beat you up now or I can beat you up later.”
He’s about five and a half feet tall and maybe 150, 160 pounds. Given that I’m 6'7" and about 240lbs., I laughed, dropped my pack, pulled out my cell phone and from about ten paces away proceed to dial 911 and very calmly tell them what I’m witnessing. I had the most overwhelming urge to take matters into my own hands, but I figure siccing the police on his scummy ass might be better in the long run. I give the dispatcher a very clear description of the people involved, that his name is Sean, and what is transpiring and that he just threatened me. (I wanted to make sure that was recorded.) He proceeds to tell me that I’m a coward (?!).
“Says the loser assaulting his girlfriend in public,” I responded. She squirms from his grasp and tried to get away, at which point he grabs her by the hair. I yell “HEY!!” and start to cross the road towards them. He shoves the woman to the ground, and runs into a house, whereupon I hear glass smashing. By this point I can hear sirens, so I walk up to York to flag down the cop. (Who was pretty darn foxy, I might add.) I tell her what happened, descriptions, the house he went into, the direction the woman went in, and made sure to mention that he threatened me. She goes off in pursuit of the woman (which makes sense really). I proceed to walk home.
About three hours later my cell phone rings and it’s the cop. She gets a statement from me, and asks if I would be willing to testify. Sure. Make sure to tell her again that he threatened me. Tell her I suspected he was inebriated.
“What gave you that idea?”
“I worked as a bouncer. Only drunks thought threatening me was a good idea. And it never worked out well for them.” She chuckles.
Talk for a few minutes. She thanks me for doing the right thing.
“Oh yeah. I just think how would I feel if that was my niece or daughter or sister in that position and how would I feel about it. I’d sure as hell appreciate it if someone stepped up to the plate and came to their assistance. Well that woman is someone’s niece or sister or daughter. Its up to me to step up to the plate and do something. But to be really honest, I was sorely tempted to beat the ever living bejeesus out of that turd. But I figure as satisfying as that might have been, it’s probably best to let the legal system handle it.” She laughs.
“Yeah, I understand how you feel, but unfortunately you can’t really do that.”
“Pity.”
I’m just not one of those people who can turn a blind eye to shitbaggery. It’s my neighbourhood, one that I really like, and there is no way that I’m going to stand idly by while a woman is being hurt. I could handle it if that guy tried something with me. I could handle it if I got hurt and I had to go to the hospital. I could handle it if the cops came up on the scene and found me pummeling the life out of him, and arrested me. But what I would never be able to handle is if I watched the news and heard that a woman had been stabbed by her drunken loser of a boyfriend and bled to death on the sidewalk, because I didn’t want to get involved and did nothing. The guilt of that would eat me alive for the rest of my days.
I wasn’t so keen on the idea that I now had this guy who wasn’t so fond of me a block and a bit from my house. (But with a recorded 911 call where I stated he had threatened me, and a statement to a police officer where I mentioned he had threatened me, I figured that would help. If he was stupid enough to try anything with me, that would stand me in good stead. Who would a court side with – the good samaritan who got threatened by a guy assaulting his girlfriend, or a guy charged with assaulting his girlfriend who threatened a good samaritan?) But, sometimes you just have to do what’s right, not what’s convenient, come what may. As it stands, I’ve never seen him since. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was languishing in Barton jail the whole time.
So I was subpœnæd, found out the guys name, what he was charged with. (Two counts of first degree assault and mischief under $5000.) I was kind of excited to get to go to court and contribute to the cause of justice. I hadn’t set foot in court since my grade twelve civics class. I figured that the packed courtroom would gasp at my explosive testimony, that the jury would hang on my every word, that I would subjected to a gruelling cross-examination by the defense, that the jury, upon hearing that he had threatened a good samaritan, would render a swift and harsh verdict.
On Monday morning I left all my sharp pointy things at home, went to the court house, found the Crown, who proceeds to tell me that he pled guilty on Friday afternoon, and that no trial would actually happen. They tried to call me, but they called my cell phone, which I had had off all weekend.
Mwah, mwah, mwah.....
Bit of an anticlimax, but it still turned out like it was supposed to. No dropping of the charges by the woman at least, which I feared might happen.
“I can either beat you up now or beat you up later.” Priceless.
About three hours later my cell phone rings and it’s the cop. She gets a statement from me, and asks if I would be willing to testify. Sure. Make sure to tell her again that he threatened me. Tell her I suspected he was inebriated.
“What gave you that idea?”
“I worked as a bouncer. Only drunks thought threatening me was a good idea. And it never worked out well for them.” She chuckles.
Talk for a few minutes. She thanks me for doing the right thing.
“Oh yeah. I just think how would I feel if that was my niece or daughter or sister in that position and how would I feel about it. I’d sure as hell appreciate it if someone stepped up to the plate and came to their assistance. Well that woman is someone’s niece or sister or daughter. Its up to me to step up to the plate and do something. But to be really honest, I was sorely tempted to beat the ever living bejeesus out of that turd. But I figure as satisfying as that might have been, it’s probably best to let the legal system handle it.” She laughs.
“Yeah, I understand how you feel, but unfortunately you can’t really do that.”
“Pity.”
I’m just not one of those people who can turn a blind eye to shitbaggery. It’s my neighbourhood, one that I really like, and there is no way that I’m going to stand idly by while a woman is being hurt. I could handle it if that guy tried something with me. I could handle it if I got hurt and I had to go to the hospital. I could handle it if the cops came up on the scene and found me pummeling the life out of him, and arrested me. But what I would never be able to handle is if I watched the news and heard that a woman had been stabbed by her drunken loser of a boyfriend and bled to death on the sidewalk, because I didn’t want to get involved and did nothing. The guilt of that would eat me alive for the rest of my days.
I wasn’t so keen on the idea that I now had this guy who wasn’t so fond of me a block and a bit from my house. (But with a recorded 911 call where I stated he had threatened me, and a statement to a police officer where I mentioned he had threatened me, I figured that would help. If he was stupid enough to try anything with me, that would stand me in good stead. Who would a court side with – the good samaritan who got threatened by a guy assaulting his girlfriend, or a guy charged with assaulting his girlfriend who threatened a good samaritan?) But, sometimes you just have to do what’s right, not what’s convenient, come what may. As it stands, I’ve never seen him since. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was languishing in Barton jail the whole time.
So I was subpœnæd, found out the guys name, what he was charged with. (Two counts of first degree assault and mischief under $5000.) I was kind of excited to get to go to court and contribute to the cause of justice. I hadn’t set foot in court since my grade twelve civics class. I figured that the packed courtroom would gasp at my explosive testimony, that the jury would hang on my every word, that I would subjected to a gruelling cross-examination by the defense, that the jury, upon hearing that he had threatened a good samaritan, would render a swift and harsh verdict.
On Monday morning I left all my sharp pointy things at home, went to the court house, found the Crown, who proceeds to tell me that he pled guilty on Friday afternoon, and that no trial would actually happen. They tried to call me, but they called my cell phone, which I had had off all weekend.
Mwah, mwah, mwah.....
Bit of an anticlimax, but it still turned out like it was supposed to. No dropping of the charges by the woman at least, which I feared might happen.
“I can either beat you up now or beat you up later.” Priceless.
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Good on you!
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