Since daylight savings has cloaked my 5pm dog walks under a veil of darkness, the typically safe routes have been a little more sketchy than usual. Case-in-point: on a walk the other day a commotion caused me to swivel my head to catch a fistfight between what appeared to be two men beside a large PG&E utility box. But it wasn’t a fight at all—I realized, squinting to get a clearer view—it was a beating. One of the figures was clearly dominating the other, like a sixth-year senior shaking down a spindly little freshman for lunch money. I picked up my pace to ascertain the severity of the beat down. “You need to do something,” I thought. “Actually, no,” I reconsidered. “They could be high out of their minds on bath salts.” Wanting to still do my part as Good Samaritan, I trotted out of sight and dialed 9-1-1 to alert police. I felt slightly ashamed for leaving the poor guy to get pummeled, but, hey, I’m no hero. I’m just trying to clock another 10,000 steps on this FitBit.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to
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