The Butt

Not just a butt.

This weird thing happened a few months ago near my apartment.  I saw a butt.   It was shining in the sun on the sidewalk about a block away from me.  People were walking by, glancing curiously at the butt and then moving on.  A few gross guys were lingering, standing too close and discussing the butt.

Of course I immediately bee lined towards it to get a better look.  I stopped a half a block away, got out my phone and called 911.  The butt belonged to a lady, blacked out face down on the sidewalk, wearing a shirt and a jacket but no pants, underwear, shoes or socks.  What happened to her?  How did she get there?  Was she a rape victim that was roofied and dumped there?  Was she dead?  Was she a drug addict that turned to prostitution and just blacked out after a bad night?  But, if that was it, who took her pants?  What about when she wakes up and finds herself on the sidewalk completely naked from the top down?

The 911 operator picked up my call.  “Okay, so she’s not wearing any pants.”  She repeated to me.  “What’s the cross street?”

I guarded the lady from a distance, trying to respect her privacy while I waited for the police to arrive.  In a couple of minutes two cops pulled up on the opposite side of the street near the pie shop.  I waved at them and pointed at the lady.  They gave me the thumbs up and I began walking back home.  When I glanced back one of the cops was opening a Mylar thermal blanket while his partner was radioing for an ambulance.  I left never knowing anything else about it.


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