2012-01-23 - 1:06 p.m.

Yesterday, 6 p.m. and the light on 36th Street almost gone, I went outside, with a friend, for a smoke. The Ravens kicker had just, moments before, missed the kick that made the bar go from riotous to silent. Outside, a young guy, drunk, borrowed my friend's lighter. "I dreamt, last night, that he'd miss that kick," he said. Another guy, older, thicker, dressed in purple jersey, walked over. "What did you just say?" he asked. The young guy shuffled away, still facing us. "Just said--" he said. "Shut up," the bigger guy said. "Don't say that kind of shit around me. Get the fuck out of here." And he did, turning and walking away, quickly. His aggressor, after a few seconds, went after him. I don't know if they met again.

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