So there was a brawl in the bar across the street from where I live last night. I don’t know any details, only that when I came back from a quick trip to the grocery store with my newly-baptized infant daughter in my arms, there were three police cars parked in the street, lights flashing, and what appeared likely to be the entire patronage of the small main-street establishment milling about on the sidewalk, being interviewed in small groups by uniformed officers of the law.
I can’t say this makes me feel any less safe than I did before this incident, whatever it was. Rumor has it that some out-of-town folks mistook their place, and were as a consequence ‘schooled’ by several of the locals. Bloodshed in a watering hole, although still outside the realm of my limited experience, is a thing, I have no doubt, and living as we do with something like seven or eight such establishments within a three-minute stroll, I expect such things will happen from time to time, mostly unwitnessed by me or mine.
Still makes me think that living right downtown is not the ideal place for us, long term.