Hobo with a Shotgun

Okay, not quite.

The other morning I'm riding in to work on my bike and pass some dive bar. They're closed (one would hope!) as it was early in the morning.

Strewn across the doorway was some shabby-looking fellow. I'd guess he was homeless.

I wouldn't normally take much note. I mean, someone sleeping in doorways is hardly unusual in that area.

A little glint of metal caught my eye as I was pedaling past.

Dude had a knife in his hand.

He was sleeping with one arm cradled under his head as a pillow and the other was by his side, holding a knife.

Wasn't a small knife, either. I could see it from about ten or twelve meters away in poor lighting.

Part of me feels for the guy. You have to be seriously afraid of things to be sleeping with a damn knife in your hand. And, of course, it sucks to be sleeping in the open, even in summer.

Part of me is, of course, a bit twitchy. Dude had a knife, after all. He was ready to slash and/or stab someone. There was no ambiguity there.

And part of me admires his motor and muscle control. I would expect I would drop the knife if I were asleep and in his position. I expect I might also roll over on to the knife and wind up with an involuntary piercing or somesuch.

I'm not really a fan of sleeping with sharp things near enough to cut me. Maybe that's just me.