tonight we drank sangria and bumbled out of the restaurant looking for more remarkable neighborhood things.

a block later, we saw a group of young kids running quickly in a single line. cutting corners, across lawns, out of sight fast. first i thought how Nike but it was replaced by a something's up feeling.

one more block. a young kid with a bloody face, surrounded by three girls who seemed to be of some comfort. i looked and saw he was missing some teeth and his shoes.

we passed slow and thought we could provide assistance. he asked for a phone while the girls said that so-and-so couldn't have done it and where was...it was buzzing and we were dumbfounded and phoneless.

so we said we didn't have one but the gas station would let him make a call and the words 'are you alright' came out. despite our intention to help, i wish that i hadn't asked that. because what would you say when you are 15 and growing up in a tough neighborhood and a group of kids you probably know just knocked out your teeth and ripped off your air flights? and then a group of older guys make you feel small in front of girls?

does it fucking look like i'm alright?

he then seemed to be shifting into revenge mode so we repeated that he should try the gas station phone and get some help.

i walked away feeling stupid and helpless. watching sex & the city then reading the wire just seemed like useless old man's thing to do.

i wish, at the very least, we had provided some comfort or help. this kid needed it. like maybe a cell phone call would've halted that look in his eyes. the look that's keeping me up past one am without really knowing how to end this.