I was raised Irish in that I never called the cops.

Now on my way to NYC from Laguardia from Nashville I tried to get a shuttle since I was carrying about 20k of film equipment with me. The shuttle van was 15$, unfortunately I had no credit cards and 12 dollars at the end of my trip…. After some frustration at the transport area at the airport I took the bus. Not my first choice carrying all the heavy equipment myself, plus my bag for the week. But you have to do what you have to do. Plus I could use the exercise.

While on the bus I got into a fun intellectual masturbatory conversation with a girl from Portland who left her heavy fundamentalist parents at age 15 to live with her sister. Now just to fit my steadicam on the bus I had to put it by the middle exit door. Already that had me nervous. While I traveled through Harlem, deeply into the conversation I herd the tall unkempt black guy waiting by the door mention something about how easy it be to take someone’s bag. I thought, no way he try to grab my bag right…? Then I thought I herd him whisper how he was going to grab my bag to his partner to his left… Is he really going to try taking my bag. No I must have just thought I herd that… I quietly tell the reformed “christian” next to me what I thought herd. either way I wasn’t taking any chances. I grab my skateboard slowly and reinforced my grip on the trucks to make it easy to swing with its heavy trucks and sharp back end. Neither noticed my change of position. He is standing next to my steadicam bag and the first one to be out the door.

The bus slowed down while it arrived at the next stop. He still wasn’t trying to pick up the bag. Maybe I was just imaging it. I mean I would talk about easy it might be to steal something at a bank for example. and I never would do it. The bus stops. The doors open. I see it all, I watch his right hand head for my handle and grab it, as soon as his fingertips hit that nylon material, I bring my skateboard from 0-60 in less than a second. All the force my body can muster in protective rage, even more than I imagined comes to the impact point of his hand. I don’t see anything at that moment. I but I hear the bones in his hands break. I scream THIEF! I come up again ready for his partner who turns fast but stands still with both my hand on the trucks, as I am in a position to break his face in….if I have to. the guy cradles his limp hand and calls me an asshole. he says he “thought” the bag was his friends. He yells hes going to get the cops as he steps off the bus. I tell him while watching them both carefully, go for it.

The bus door closes and we drive away. The bus driver mentions something about how that guys been a problem before……