As in 2 weeks. As in my final 2 weeks at Salvation Army. Yeah, you read that right: I m preparing to depart the SA – complete with honorable discharge (that's what she said) – in a mere two weeks. So consider this a formal 2 weeks notice for SA, Las Vegas, and the entire state of Nevada. Because I'm heading east, to ...
But your humble narrator is getting ahead of himself. Last installment I promised to recount a few stories concerning some of the characters at SA, so let's get to that. And remind me not to get out of here with telling you abut the big change in lifestyle heading my way. (But if you just can't wait, there's a clue if you follow this link.)
'Beatdown Town'
Around a month ago a fellow client and kitchen co-worker named Truck (not his real name) scored a job at Crater Lake national park in Oregon. It sounded like a great deal: Nice location, a managerial position in their lodge kitchen, and a chance to save up some money.
So a week before he's due to leave, Truck gets into a seemingly harmless argument with a guy in the SA kitchen. I witnessed the exchange between Truck (a 5'9, stocky black guy) and the other man (a younger white guy approximately the same height but far slighter of build). They got nose to nose with low, intense voices, neither of them willing to back down. At one point they actually went outside but onlookers broke up a potential fight in front of the cafe entrance.
Upon re-entering the cafe, they exchanged parting shots with the younger guy exiting. Truck was still visibly upset when the security people showed up to take statements (your humble narrator kept his mouth shut) although he tried to laugh the matter off. Apparently the younger guy wasn't supposed to be in the cafe in the first place. Taking statements is par for most arguments of this kind. Security people mainly go through the motions on this sort of thing because guys woof at each other all the time in SA and little ever comes of it.
I wasn't a witness to the next part of the story, so I can only tell you what was related to me by my roommate. (FYI accounts of the following differ markedly) According to my roommate
Hank, he was walking a few blocks from the SA campus near the St.Vincent/Catholic Charities complex. Truck suddenly ran up to him and said, “Hold this, man!” He gave Hank his cell phone, wallet and other small items. When Hank asked what was going on, Truck simply ran across the street.
The younger guy from the cafe argument was there. Hank shouted for Truck to come back, but he confronted the younger guy on the sidewalk. Shouting turned into shoving, and wild punches were thrown. Truck dove at the younger guy's legs, hoisted him by the knees and body-slammed him to the cement. Truck then used his knees to pin the guy's arms and sat on his chest. Truck proceeded to deliberately punch the guy repeatedly, connecting with solid, deliberate shots to the face. Supposedly, you could hear wet 'popping' noises as Truck's fists hammered into the guy's face.
All the while, many homeless people sat and either ignored the event or watched with detached interest. No doubt they see this sort of thing frequently. Hank ran over and managed to pull Truck away, returning his stuff and telling him to get lost as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. Truck seemed to be in a daze, mumbling, “Thanks, man, sorry. I had to do it, man ...” He walked off and Hank took a moment to look at the damage done.
The younger guy was barely conscious. His face was beaten to the consistency of raw meat. We would later learn that he suffered a shattered jaw, a fractured eye socket and cheek bone, and several other injuries severe enough to put him in intensive care. (For the record, he did survive.) But before Hank could get away, he was detained by St.Vincent security officers and eventually questioned by police.
Truck was ID'd by the guy and arrested later that night; I saw him led in handcuffs to the squad car. Hard to believe this was my co-worker and fellow student/client who was always so easy to get along with. He did have a temper, but I never thought him capable of such an action.
He would end up spending 24 days in jail (denied bond) because the guy didn't press charges and decided to move to Oregon. Most agreed that Truck dodged a bullet on that one; he could still be sitting in jail awaiting trial. His penance? Apparently no more than attending an 8-hour anger management class and he's paid his debt to society.
Truck did lose his national park gig but SA allowed him to return to the kitchen. He's presently searching again for work.
When I saw him he told me his version of the story: He was walking along when the younger guy and three friends tried to jump him. Truck “knocked the f**kin' shit out that asshole” (his words) and the other three fled. “But all them bitches know they best respect my ass. You feel me?”
Okay. Obviously, that conflicts with the version told to me by my roommate. Hank also had to tell his story to Vegas Metro detectives; he said it was like an episode of “Law & Order” (insert favorite franchise here) where he was taken to a small room and his statement was recorded. Hank was also summoned to attend Truck's court date although he never had to take the stand.
Many clients on the SA campus actually sided with Truck, supporting his actions regardless of which version of the story they believed. Some clients tried to make it a racial issue and another case of injustice for the black man. All I can say is that both parties were at fault (imo). There was no reason for the argument(s) to reach the level it did. As is often the case, the cause was something small. Here, the events stemmed from Truck telling the guy to take only one sausage for breakfast. The guy then threw a sausage link at Truck and it was on. All that grief over a sausage. Somewhere in porcine heaven, a piggie must be squealing with satisfaction.
Truck is apparently none the worse for wear. In fact he seems to be enjoying something of a celebrity status since returning from jail, telling his tale of woe to friends who listen raptly. I worked with him earlier today serving the homeless breakfast and he's pretty much the same as before: Pushy, somewhat bossy at times, occasionally annoying. As usual, I pretend not to hear him and stay focused on what I'm doing. Truck is one of those guys I like overall, just not as a co-worker. Whatever. I'll keep the peace for two more weeks and resist any urge to throw sausage links at the guy.
Now, about that new j-o-b ... Ah, but it seems I've taken too long telling you about Truck. Guess I'll have to wait til the next installment. No, let's get it out of the way before you burst from frustration. Your humble narrator has scored a gig at a small resort located in the southwestern US. Ever hear of the Grand Canyon? Yup, that's how I roll. Go big or go home is what I say.
Anyway, I'll be working in one of the lodges or restaurants there basically as a food server. Fine with me because it doesn't involve cooking and it's a tipped position. Best, it fulfills my obligation to SA's culinary program so they won't sic the debt collectors from hell upon me. And I must admit the prospect of some new scenery appeals to me. So we'll see what develops. But for all intents and purposes the GC gig is a done deal.
Next time: Eh. We'll figure something out. For now, that's a wrap!
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