Old Men Fighting.

Photo note: My digital camera charger was stolen (why, I don’t know) and I’ve run out of batteries. At the same time, I can’t seem to find a place that can scan film slides onto CD in Sao Paulo. Until I sort it out, I’ll be pulling photos out of my archives. These are from Hermosa Beach, CA in July 2009.

We had been walking for a few blocks towards the subway when we noticed the flashing lights. A street corner in the middle of downtown was surrounded by a few ambulances and a bunch of small police sedans. They usually drove in caravans of three or four cars. It looked like at least three groups had shown up.

“What the fuck is that all about?”

“Oh, you know. Someone probably got shot.” Jeff left the humor implied. These things happen.

We continued meandering down the street, passing a bottle back and forth, when a guy with a hat pulled low and a new-looking, very large t-shirt brushed passed us, moving quickly without trying to look like it. He was fiddling with his pants. They were quite baggy. I assumed that he was just adjusting his belt until he got closer.

A half-block after he passed I had to ask.

“So, was that just me or was he shoving a handgun into his waistband?”

“Yeah, I think it was.”

There’s not much else you can say to that.