The time I almost hit a homeless woman

I know, shocking hey? But yep, it really did happen…or almost did.

There I was, walking down Murray Street and I was on the phone to Dad, just chatting away about our days, maybe we were planning to meet up for dinner that night? No idea. I just know Dad was on the phone when I heard it.

“Oi! Get off your f*cking phone!”

The voice was brackish and loud – and really gruff, as if the person speaking had drunk a lot of really hard spirits. I followed the voice to its owner – a homeless woman in a red puffer coat.


I wasn’t being loud, I was in a public area – on a street corner, actually – and she was sitting against a wall facing the corner.

I chose to be the bigger person and ignore her.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” I asked Dad and we carried on with our conversation.

That’s when the homeless woman got UP.

She started yelling again. Louder this time – and was pointing a gnarled finger at me as she slowly approached me.


Oh Lord.

I tried looking everywhere but at her. My heart started to race and my palms started to sweat. My mouth was dry so I was swallowing and trying to keep a control over my rising fear.

Please don’t come any closer I silently pleaded.

The woman got to about a few feet away. She gestured angrily at my phone.

“I SAID, STOP TALKING!” she yelled.

I turned away and lowered my voice, hoping that would placate her.

I was wrong.

In the blink of an eye, she had come right up to me and with both her hands out, she PUSHED me.

I almost tripped, catching myself before I did and righting my balance.


“Dad?” I spoke into the phone as I was watching the homeless woman.

“Yes, Love?” Dad asked, confirming he was there.

“Give me a second, ok?” and I slid the phone into my back pocket.

The homeless lady hadn’t moved and was glaring at me.

But she’d pushed me angrily and I was NOT having THAT.

“Right” I faced her and looked her right in the eye “You’ve just pushed me for doing nothing wrong. I’m on a public street – I’m not in your damn living room. If you EVER lay a hand on me again – I WILL END YOU

The voice that came out of me was so assertive, strong and level that I almost surprised myself. I was a bit impressed, not gonna lie.

Go me!

At the words “I will END you“, the homeless woman took a faltering step back.

“Come at me and I will make sure you don’t get back up” I promised, harnessing the energy and authority of my Mom who takes absolutely NO SH*T from ANYBODY.

The homeless woman took a few small steps back, but kept an eye of challenge on me.

I had split into two people at that point – 1 half of me was PUMPED and ready for a fight while the other half of me was panicking. What if she DID want to fight? How do I even make a fist? Do thumbs go on the outside or inside? I don’t know how to punch anyone because I’ve never tried! I would suck at it and probably miss. Then what?

But on the outside, I stood up as tall as my 5 foot frame would allow. I parted my feet so I would have optimum balance and held my arms steady at my side.

“Now,” I pointed at her sleeping bag on the ground by the wall “SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP”

and she did just that.

The lights had changed to ‘green’ and in a swift – AND VERY COOL MOVE – I turned, put my phone to my ear again, and began crossing the street.


Well done! That’s my girl!” Dad cheered.

I smiled and took deep breaths until my shaking stopped.

That’s me. I’m my Mother’s daughter…and Dad was well proud of me, too.


Photo by Julia Larson

Published by janetdthomas77

I'm the person who will go into a burning building to save everyone. I'm also the person likely to have started the fire by leaving a stupid scented candle unattended or something, know.

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