The Man With No Arms

I’d just finished a rousing game of Ms. Pac-Man and was walking back to my car, when I noticed an Indian man with no arms walking toward me down the sidewalk.  He was wearing a dress shirt with the sleeve tucked in and pinned on one side.  The other side had the sleeve cut off and where an arm should have come out, just a small backward hand hung out right from the shoulder.

He was swaying back and forth as he got closer, and I couldn’t tell if he had trouble balancing without the arms or if he was drunk.  I just assumed it was both.  I headed for the alley because my car was parked back there, but he cut me off and slipped in before I could get in there.

I tried to pass him on one side and he wobble-walked in front of me.  I tried the other side, same thing. I finally just put my head down and went for it, nearly bumping into him.  He saw me and startled, kind of hopping to one side to give me room to pass.

When I put enough distance between us I ventured a look back.  He made a bee-line for the wall of a building.  I thought, “Strange, I wonder what he’s doing?”

When I drove back down the alley I found out.  He was pissing on the wall.

I don’t know how the hell he managed to get his penis out.  I just sat with my headlights on him baffled at the logistics of it all.  He looked at me a little annoyed, and then the hand on his shoulder flipped back and forth either waving me on or away.  I couldn’t tell which.

So I backed up, turned around, and drove down the alley in the opposite direction.

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