Bad Behavior on Baltimore

Around 2:00 this afternoon, I rode my bike up Baltimore Avenue to grab a cuppa coffee at the Satellite, a new place downstairs from Firehouse Bicycles at 50th Street. I crossed the trolley tracks at 49th and was riding past Cedar Park, when I saw group of four or five guys from the neighborhood in their mid-twenties playing cards or chess on the corner where Florence forks off from Baltimore. My eyeball was really on the girl, who was glorious, walking this intersection.

One of the guys noticed her too and let out a whistle. "Hey baby," he called. She kept walking, ignoring him.

"Hey baby, c'mere," he called again, this time louder. "Hey baby!" I had ridden past by this time, and turned to look back.

"Cunt!" he was yelling at the top of his lungs at the girl as she crossed the street, her arms crossed across her chest, her head down. The other guys were laughing. "Cunt! CUNT!"

I didn't know what to do, but in Philly, you say the wrong thing to the wrong person, you end up with a bullet in the face. So I did nothing. I got my coffee. The japing churls were still on the corner when I rode back home, but the girl was nowhere in sight.

Bad Behavior on Baltimore.