I had to go into St Louis yesterday to see my pain management doctor.

I hadn't been there since April when it was markedly cooler and there weren't many people on the streets.  Yesterday it was about 90 degrees and there were a lot of people wandering around, the majority of whom were black.  (Throw whatever crap at me you want to for saying that, I'm simply stating what I saw)

After I had left the hospital I got stopped at a red light.  I could see a black guy with a handful of giant pixie stix knocking on the windows of the cars in front of me and getting pretty agitated, and being the cautious gal that I am I rolled up my drivers' side window and locked the doors. 

He got to my truck just as the light was changing.  "here, gimme a dollar or two for this" he said, waving the pixie stix around and banging on the window with his palm.  I shook my head and mouthed "no thanks, I don't want any" and for some reason that upset him and he started yelling and cussing at me...

...and he kicked my truck.  I guess he was really pissed that nobody had wanted any of what he was selling and he took it out on me and my vehicle.

A couple of years ago I'd have got out and challenged him.  I'd have told him to bring it on, and if he did I'd have treated him like any other suspect and taken him down (I'd have given it my best shot, anyway) and then I'd have called the cops.

These days, though.....I can't do that.  I'm simply not physically able to tackle people like that.  I mean, I could, but I'd get hurt.  I'd end up with another dislocated shoulder or another herinated disc, and it simply wouldn't be worth it. 

It's a hard thing for me to have to deal with.  It's painful for me to come to terms with the loss of who I was and what I used to be able to do.  I really, really loved working for security companies, I loved working alongside the PD and feeling like I was making a difference.  I loved working patrol and events, I even loved sitting and watching the perimiter fences of places, looking for people to sneak in and hoping to catch them in the act of taking something that wasn't theirs.

It hurts me to have to acknowledge that I can't do that anymore, and it REALLY hurts to know that I'll never be able to do that again.

So, I simply flipped this asshole the bird and drove through the light and onto the interstate (where I encountered a 2 mile tailback that took me an hour and a quarter to navigate, but that's a different story), and I drove home thinking about what happened....mourning the loss of what was and trying to come to terms with what will never be.

I'd have really liked to have got out of the truck and kicked his arse, though.