Now I watched as this drunk Frenchman staggered out to find his shoes; one had already been ran over by a car. He managed to find the non-ran-over one, get it on his foot – the wrong foot – and stumble around in search of the other. As this was happening a fight broke out among some of the drunks in front of the station. Beer bottles were broken and I am certain someone was stabbed, but the one-shoed tar man continued his quest for the other shoe. During this process he staggered directly into the path of an on-coming car. I know it hit him; I heard the snap and saw the passenger side mirror break from the car and go bouncing down the street. Tar man never really even flinched. He yelled something and the driver of the car returned what I assume were curse words, but he kept on driving, barely even slowing. That’s twice within only a few minutes this man could have died. Had he managed to pour the hot tar on himself it surely would have killed him; a few more inches to the right and that car would have killed him. He avoided the reaper a third time that night but it would not come for a few more hours.
I spent the next three or so hours watching the other drunks fight, shove each other to the ground, and the tar man bend himself double many times over. I was getting sleepy and hungry, so I walked around the general area to bring myself back to an awakened state and take my mind from food. I guess this caught the attention of some of the drunks. One approached me and asked for a cigarette; this conversation was in French of course and it was very one sided. When it was clear to him I did not understand what he was asking he made the motion of smoking. I shook my head to the negative and began to walk away. He called to me with a raised voice and followed me back toward where my bags still sat (I never let them out of my sight). This man was small, much smaller than me, and I felt no real threat from him – unless he had a weapon but he showed no other signs of aggressions and eventually walked away.
For the next hours as I awaited the opening of the station, I was entertained by what could be called the French keystone robbers; I watch two other drunks steal the same coat and sack of likely also pilfered goods from each other. Drunk A had a coat, which he was having great difficulties getting into. He also had a small cloth bag from some shop likely, and it had some items in it, but I could not tell what they were. After several attempts to put his coat on, each one more of a failure than the one previous, he threw the coat to the ground beside his bag, leaned against the wall of a building adjacent to the train station and eventually slid and slumped to the floor. I suppose he passed out.
After a few minutes, from across the street came drunk B, who had apparently been in a similar condition in his little corner of the world. I am assuming he came back to consciousness long enough to see the proceedings of the failed coat donning, and deciding he was cold made his way to the coat and promptly stole it. He also looked through the bag and did remove something, but what I am unsure. Drunk B then made his way back across the street and resumed his cataleptic state.
Well, I guess drunk A was not so comatose after all; apparently he was awake enough to realize what had just happened. It took him a few minutes to resurrect himself to condition where he could walk, but when he did it was deliberate determination he stumbled his way to where drunk B has so securely in his inebriation returned to lala land. Drunk A stole back his coat and item, struggling to take the coat of the limp man. Drunk A then returned to his position and assumed it. Drunk B was apparently awoken by all the jostling it took to remove the coat and shortly returned to drunk A to once again steal the coat. This scene played itself out at least three times during the remaining hours of the morning before dawn. It was actually quite funny watching these slobbering inebriates rob each other over and over again. By the way, drunk A never successfully donned the coat.
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