Catchy Name Needed

Well. The police have just been here. Rob went out for a walk before bedtime - he always takes one, has since I've known him - and he passed two teenagers on the street back behind our apartments, and as they passed, one of them suddenly punched him in the jaw. Pretty hard, apparently. (He said the other kid looked nearly as surprised as he did.) And then they just ran off. Rob's alright, he had a little bit of abrasion and his jaw is pretty sore, but I don't think anything's broken. He took some advil and he's gone to bed now. First he wasn't going to call the police but after a while he decided to. I could tell he felt better after he did. Of course, the police can't really do anything except file it away and see if they get any more reports that match up with it (?) but unless the kid is dumb enough to go around randomly punching other guys I can't see how anything much can come of it. Still, it doesn't hurt to call.

This is a turn I didn't quite expect my Thursday night to take. Really bizarre, and a little bit scary. We don't live in a really low-crime neighborhood; we live in apartment-ville, an area of nice-but-not-ritzy apartment complexes, and the tenants are a pretty mixed lot. But the crime around here is mostly the occasional burglary, as far as I know. Cars broken into, sometimes an apartment. No gang stuff that I know of, even. (And how do you explain that anyway? Gangs? The guy was on drugs? Or he somehow thought Rob was attacking him? I don't have a clue.)

Very, very odd.