I Am Attacked With A Broomstick By "Dennis Rodman"

I Am Assaulted By A Stick Wielding Man
When I went out to play on the corner of Canal Street, and Jefferson Davis Parkway on Tuesday, I made 2 one dollar bills and a breakfast bar, the latter, handed to me by a lady who said that she wished she had cash, and that she was glad to see that I was playing music. She stopped short of adding: "...instead of just holding a sign."

I had gotten there at around 6:15 PM, which gave me about an hour of daylight.
Just before the curtain came down on the daylight, I looked down the sidewalk to see a man wearing a bandana over his face and swinging a stick the size of a broom stick to and fro, in a manner similar to the guy in the movie Indiana Jones (I think) who was performing a war dance to include swinging a machete threateningly and advancing towards the protagonist before being dispatchd by the latter by a high caliber slug, delivered from a large pistol that the protagonist was carrying.

This guy had a bead on me, as I stood there, playing the guitar and harmonica for any motorist who cared to turn down their stereo and roll down their window, as they waiting for the light to change.

He swung his broom stick and walked right up to me and then uttered the confusing phrase: "Do you know how many trans men die each year; and do you know how many Bob Dylan imitators there are?"

 
He had put the end of his stick in my tip basket and flicked it a few feet from where it stood, containing only a fake five dollar bill, and was knocking my bike over while he said this.
He then turned the stick on my guitar and managed to whack it once on the neck and to hit my knuckles, as I blocked another attempt at hitting it.

As soon as I opened my mouth to say whatever a person say's to respond to such a query, he held his hand out and said: "No!" and then walked off.
This had all taken place near a pretty large tree, the trunk of which was occluding the vision of a cop in a van parked across the street, which I didn't notice until after I started packing up, since it had started to get dark and I had started to re-tune my guitar, before thinking: screw it, it's getting dark and I have made enough for a can of cat food and a couple cigars.

As soon as I rode off the cop followed suit, leading me to wonder if he was looking out for me. That is possible if it was one of the cops who is a "friend" of mine, from seeing me in the Quarter the past 9 years.

The Big Tree That I Played Next To; Site of Attack

And, so, that was Tuesday.

Wednesday, I called my mom, who told me that she had sent money that should probably arrive the next day. This helped me to get over the guy with the stick, who had a face very similar to Dennis Rodman (who probably single-handedly blew the Detroit Pistons chance of beating the Los Angeles Lakers in the 1988 NBA Championship game 7 by making a boneheaded decision as time was expiring on the game; but that is water under the bridge.

Thursday, the money came, and I was riding down to the Brown Derby store when I saw the guy, sitting on a porch with a couple other guys, minus the bandana, but still looking like Dennis Rodman.

We made eye contact as I rode past on the sidewalk.

I decided to stop and pull out my phone, as if I was texting my friends to come and beat him up or something, when I heard him say to someone else: "Let him call the police..."

This just about confirmed that he was the guy.

Did he want to identify himself thus, or is it such a habit in black people to talk so loudly that anyone within 100 feet is privy to their conversation?

I don't know; but I know I will probably see him again, and that he is the one who has to stress out over whether or not I am the type to seek revenge.

He was making it a point to only disturb my possessions, and was only trying to hit my guitar when I blocked the blow with my knuckles; so it would be escalating the situation to attack his person in any way.

"Do you know how many trans men die each year?!?"

I figured that what happened was due to the fact that he had probably just walked by "Bongo," who is a cross dresser and who has recently been evicted from Sacred Heart for having fallen way behind on his rent. He had been getting his monthly benefit checks, but had been applying them towards things other than rent. He put himself in the situation he is in, in other words.

He decided to set up camp on the steps of the church right by Sacred Heart, as if petitioning to get back in, or hoping someone is going to come along and rescue him; probably another cross dressing weirdo, wanting to rescue one of his own.

So, the guy might have become infuriated over the fact that I still have resident status at the apartments, while a perfectly good trans sexual cross dresser type has been booted out. That is the closest thing to sense that I can make out of his actions.
Unlimited Potential
But, I was in a good mood because my neighbor Wayne has once again allowed me access to his unlimited broadband data connection. He had shut it off on my about 6 months ago after I had tried to surf the dark web using the Tor browser, which caused some kind of glitch on his network which he apparently was suspicious of, and I was suddenly unable to connect to his wi-fi, no explanation or mentioning at all of it from him.

After I asked him if he had disconnected it, he became evasive and I just went away assuming that he had barred me from it.

Now, I have unlimited Internet access and can while away the hours of being locked down because of the virus