The Dark Zones

There’s places I’ll go, but truth be told, I’d just as soon not.

Examples.

Bars. Discos. Strip joints.

They were my battlefield for too long. I consider myself lucky to have survived them.

I think about rushing into a bar, weapons drawn, all because some idiot got into it with his wife, stood up, and shot her dead in front of hundreds of people.

I think of standing alone against dozens of people and waiting for everything to go sideways.

I think of making a dope deal with someone while watching them sell the stuff to others. And I remember thinking that at least the serial killer has an excuse, they’re nuts. What’s the dope sellers excuse, they needed money? And the best we could do was to avenge the seller’s victims was five to ten years in a prison someplace.

Funny. A lot of people consider those places fun.

Truth be told, I thought the battlefields in Iraq were more fun and a hell of lot safer.

I’ll stay out of them, thank you.