Quill Kill

I broke up a fight this morning.

I was pumping gas this morning--$3.20 a gallon gas freaking kills--when I heard a ruckus erupt two pumps away. Two dudes were going at it, seemingly over a piece of food. I mean, bad enough to fight in the middle of a gas station, but even worse to fight over a piece of food. They did seem a bit ruffled and streetwise; I suspect they were homeless and I guess when you've hit rock bottom, even scraps of food are worth fighting over. I didn't see their cars nearby so I assume they floated by haphazardly.

My truck was only half-way fueled, so I spectated. At first, the two combatants were evenly matched. They traded blows at an equal pace and took turns overpowering the other onto the ground. But quickly, one started totally cranking on the other. He pinned the other down, reigning blow after blow upon his head and torso. The loser could do nothing but roll into a ball in a vein attempt to shield himself.

Now, up to this point, I had been enjoying the surreal spectacle of a spontaneous street fight interrupting my normally pedestrian refueling ritual. But when the fight turned lopsided, everyone's fun was over. It's one thing if they both beat the crap out of each other, but its ugly to see one just completely jack the other. I saw no first blood drawn, but the escalating violence hinted the flow of red ichor as inevitable. I was on the brink of intervening.

The fuel pump jolted my thoughts, signaling the end of refueling.

Dammit! $50! That's like a premium new PC release!

Ignoring my pain at the pump, I left the nozzle lodged in the side of my truck and took a few steps towards the combatants. I didn't want to have to get in the middle of the fight, so I hoped my mere proximity would snap them out of their melee rage long enough to end the fight. At first, they took no notice of me. At least, the dominate one didn't. The dude getting jacked probably had no concept of his immediate surroundings due to the sound pummeling he was receiving. I took another careful step forward. Keeping one foot slightly forward, I centered my gravity in case things got physical for me. At this point, the jacker finally paused, taking a moment to glance my way. His victim twitched and then twisted, trying to get free at which time the jacker resumed hitting him. My sense of justice crystallized. Resolving to bring the fight to an end, I strode purposefully towards the two.

And then they flew away.