When I got off the elevator on the rooftop level where I was parked, I could hear the big guy still yelling. Enough was enough already. I went over to the edge to yell at him and the fun began...
"Hey, shut up and leave that guy alone."Suddenly, I was amused. Like the way a monkey up in a tree messing with a lion on the ground is amused.
"What did you say?!?"
"You heard me, jagoff. I said shut up. Nobody wants to hear it."
"Mind your own business, asshole!"
"Come up here and make me!"We went back and forth on that level a few times, me giggling like a 10-year-old, before he broke away from the woman who had successfully restrained him up to that point and ran to the elevator. That's when I started to laugh really hard.
"Come down here and I'll kick your ass!!"
"I will pee on your head, you big dummy."
"I'm coming up there!!"
"I already told you to shut up, you idiot. You suck and you're ugly."
Because I don't know if he was so stupid that he didn't know how elevators work or if he was so mad that he simply forgot, but you can be as angry as you want and run as fast as you can to to an elevator but you are going to end up standing there while the elevator sl-o-o-o-wly gets to your floor, where the doors sl-o-o-o-wly open, you jump inside and furiously mash the button while waiting for the doors to sl-o-o-o-wly close and then wait for it to sl-o-o-o-wly get to the desired floor while being serenaded by a cheesy instrumental version of "The Girl From Ipanema". It doesn't matter how angry you are, you can't rage-run an elevator.
Still, he would make his way up eventually and would almost certainly be in a very foul mood when he arrived. So I went to my vehicle, got inside and waited. I didn't want him to see me take off and I figured with it being dark, unless he went car-to-car and peered inside each one, he wouldn't see me and would just get back in the elevator and go downstairs, which would free me up to resume chirping at him. Plus, I was having a lot of fun. I felt like a 10-year-old, in a good way!
The elevator doors opened and he came storming out which made me squeal like a little girl ("Eeeeeee! Here he comes!"). Of course, he didn't see anyone and instead of getting back in the elevator and going downstairs, he started going car to car and peering inside! Oh shit! I was still laughing but now I knew I'd have to make a break for it. I had to be strategic though. I didn't want him to be close enough where he might think he could catch me on foot. What if he tripped and cracked his skull and seriously hurt himself or some other stupid, tragic outcome that could get me in actual trouble?
Eventually, he was about equal distance from me and the down ramp so I made my move, windows down, screaming with hysterical laughter as I drove off.
I thought I had gotten away cleanly until I got to the ground floor, and waiting at the exit gate was the woman he had been with! Uh-oh! I pulled up and she said, "Did you see anybody up there, walking around and looking for someone?" I replied, "Yeah, he's up there chasing some crazy person around. You should go up there and get him before someone gets hurt." She muttered, "Oh ferchrissakes..." and stormed off to the elevator as I headed home.
Does this count as helping the homeless?